


The Algorithm Of Our Souls

by ThirdMoonToTheLeft



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alcoholism, Alpha Hank Anderson, Alpha Nines, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternative First Meeting, Angst, Asexual Nines, Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Eventual Smut, Frottage, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, M/M/M/M, Omega Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Omega Gavin Reed, Oral Sex, Other, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:33:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 57,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27778441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirdMoonToTheLeft/pseuds/ThirdMoonToTheLeft
Summary: “Soul Algorithm” is a service CyberLife has been providing for years. Thanks to its state-of-the-art algorithm, the system certifies it can match anyone to the person – or persons – best suited to be their partner in life, amongst the millions of alphas, omegas and betas in its database. Some sort of soulmate finder, if you will. The service has been opened to androids after the revolution, proving they too can have soulmates.Hank knew the thing was complete bullshit since he registered – only to appease his entourage after the failure of his marriage – and the system paired him up with none other than Gavin Reed. The young omega detective made very clear he had no interest in a relationship of any sort with Hank, and the alpha quickly forgot about the whole affair. That is, until the new android friendly CyberLife contacted him to let him know his soulmate situation was more complex than previously thought.
Relationships: Connor/Gavin Reed, Connor/Upgraded Connor | RK900, Hank Anderson/Connor, Hank Anderson/Connor/Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed, Hank Anderson/Gavin Reed, Hank Anderson/Upgraded Connor | RK900, Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Comments: 71
Kudos: 133





	1. CyberLife Store

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! My first fanfic in this fandom, and my first fanfic on this website! (It’s not the first time I have written a thing in my life, I know what I’m doing I swear.) This thing got out of hand and has a lot more plot than I thought it would. I already have a few chapters written in advance, but not the entire thing. I will probably update the tags as I go along. English isn’t my first language, and I don’t have anyone to beta this so I’m sorry for the mistakes.  
> @thirdmoontotheleft on Tumblr.

Hank’s fingers drummed absentmindedly on the steering wheel as he stopped at a red light. _‘This is nut,’_ he thought for the fifth time since he got in his car, but to be fair this sentence had been coming to his mind repeatedly over the last few months and each time for completely different reasons altogether. After all, society had looked on the verge of an apocalypse not so long ago so Hank Anderson, washed-up cop known for his anti-android ideology, going to a stupid appointment at a CyberLife store? By far not the craziest thing that had happened in Detroit.

The light turned green and Hank drove forward among the few automated cars populating the road that day. Heavy metal was blasting through the speakers. A broken shop window, a slogan on a wall, were the only signs left of the revolution nearly turned violent that had led to the emancipation of every goddamn android in the country. Hard to believe it was only six months ago. Now, “free” androids were everywhere: they walked on the streets, played at the park, worked at the grocery store… Technically, it was the same as before, except now they were paid and made small talk at you. And, they were protected by law, not as private properties anymore, but as individuals. Hell, they even had them at the precinct, now.

If anybody asked for Hank’s opinion, he’d say it was complete and utter madness. Free machines? Sentient robots? What was next? In two months, he’d be expected to take his Roomba out on a walk with Sumo. But the choice hadn’t been his to make and despite his stronger than ever hatred for the plastic pricks made by CyberLife, all he could do was keep his mouth shut and carry on through life. It wasn’t like he had more reasons to be in contact with androids than before and he had too much on his plate as it were to go and commit what were now called “hate crimes” against them.

It took him less time than expected to find a parking spot – life was slow to come back to normal and even downtown wasn’t as packed as it used to be. A sudden silence fell inside his car. He didn’t move for a few seconds, both hands on the wheel, staring straight ahead. _‘This whole thing is nut.’_ Honestly, he’d forgotten CyberLife had his name somewhere in their databanks until he got their email the day before. Why was he even here? Hank couldn’t fathom what he was expecting from the situation, but he didn’t drove all the way for nothing. Before he could change his mind, he exited his vehicle and slammed the door behind him.

He started sweating as soon as he was outside. It was the middle of summer; Hank always hated this season, nothing you could do to escape the heat. Plus, people tended to go crazy in the summer. Pretty omegas everywhere wearing as little clothes as possible to avoid suffocating, hormonal alphas who just couldn’t keep it in their pants… Fights broke out more often in July and August: it made work at the precinct boring, having to fill out over and over again the same paperwork about dumb alphas punching each other in the middle of the street because they caught an attractive smell. It was nearly 2040, you would thought they’d have learned by now omegas didn’t find that shit attractive. Hank was glad he was too old to react so impulsively.

A hunched-up silhouette was leaning against the wall near the entrance of the CyberLife store – well, Hank had heard androids didn’t like calling it a store anymore, but he couldn’t give less of a fuck.

“Shit,” Gavin mumbled when he saw him coming closer. He tossed his cigarette on the ground and stepped on it.

“You know there is a fine for that, right?” Hank said.

“What you gonna do? Arrest me?”

This was as polite a greeting as could be expected from the two of them. The omega stepped away from the wall before giving Hank a once-over.

“You could have shower: it’s ten in the morning and you reek of booze.”

The familiar exasperation that came along any interaction with Gavin Reed settled somewhere near Hank’s breakfast.

“I’m guessing you got the same email as me,” he said, ignoring the provocation.

Gavin _sneered_ and the alpha felt the hair on his neck stand at the sight of someone baring their teeth at him. Gavin had always been an omega who made “annoying alphas” his main personality trait.

“I only came here because I’m hoping they’ll tell us they made a mistake the first time and we should never have had anything to do with each other to begin with,” he retorted, pointing a finger at Hank’s chest. “Let’s get this over with.”

He marched past the automated doors; Hank followed more reluctantly. Gavin went straight to the guy at the front desk, a young man with long hair, too perfect to be human despite the absence of a LED on his temple. Hank couldn’t tell his secondary gender, but most androids had none.

While Gavin awkwardly explained the reason to their presence, the alpha took a look around. The place used to be a wide, sterile room where androids stood in line like washing machines. Now, long, white tables supported display models of mechanical parts Hank couldn’t have name to save his life. The promotions on the latest AX400 or PL600 that used to adorn the walls had been replaced with advertisements for more sensitive captors, taste buds, customable body modifications… Androids could really just walk in and build themselves a new body, heh? If only Hank could do that, he’d get rid of a few unnecessary… “glitches”. But he was only human and seeing their difference on display like that made him wonder even more than usual how anyone could see those robots as “alive”.

Run by androids for androids, the store now also had a room for those who wished to have their new components installed immediately, and an adjacent repair facility. Fuck, maybe they called it a clinic these days? Only three androids were browsing the products, with one employee hovering in a corner. The two humans sticked out like a sore thumb.

The guy at the front desk flashed Gavin a polite smile and pointed at a door to the side. The omega briefly met Hank’s eyes, shrugged, then took the lead. Hank followed without a word or a look for the android. He was just glad the thing would take place in a private room, and not out in the middle of the store.

“Soul Algorithm” was a program CyberLife had created years ago. It pretended to be able to match anyone, thanks to a series of tests, with the person best suited to be their romantic partner among the millions of individuals who had already signed up and agreed to have their data collected. CyberLife presented it as an infallible, scientific method to find your soulmate.

Soulmates were an old wives’ tales among alphas and omegas, couples that were supposed to be “made for each other”. Few really believed that in the modern age, rules weren’t set in stone anymore: you could date anyone nowadays, no matter their secondary – or primary – gender. However, the program was an immediate and resounding success. Hank had been vaguely aware of its existence: it was the only thing everyone had talked about for a few months after its launch, it was the new way to meet someone, better than dating apps, but he never paid attention to it and the hype eventually died down.

He would have never thought he’d pay for such bullshit one day, but fate hadn’t been so kind on him. After his divorce, his sister let him wallow in his own misery for a few months, before coming to stay over, invade his private space and make a bother of herself. She pestered him every goddamn day about getting back on his feet and every other self-development bullshit she’d read in psychology magazines. She told him constantly about _“how everyone is worried about you, Hank”_ and of course about this new, amazing service provided by CyberLife and _“how it would be perfect to find someone that would understand you completely and help you through this difficult time”_. He’d signed up, if only to make her shut up and leave.

He’d taken all the tests, answered all the questions about every subject imaginable – family background, career, personality traits, political opinions, what he was looking for in a friend, in a lover, in a romantic partner… – it had taken him hours. He even had provided a saliva sample because CyberLife pretended genetics played a huge part in compatibility. And after all this wasted time, money, and effort, when they had finally called him back, he was introduced to Gavin fucking Reed.

They already knew each other from the precinct but before that, they’d barely talked. Gavin had just been transferred, they didn’t work the same cases, so they mostly ignored each other. Hank had noticed the omega and judged him too abrasive. They probably would have gone on like that without this incident. When they had both found themselves at a CyberLife agency three years ago with an employee telling them they had a nearly 95% compatibility rate, Gavin had stared him down, said _“hell, no”_ and walked out.

Hank had never tried to contact him about it – it wasn’t like he was happy about the results either – and they had never addressed the subject or even acknowledged it in front of each other. Hank didn’t know if Gavin had gone on with the program, if he’d contacted the second-best person on his compatibility results and pursued a relationship with them instead, and frankly, he didn’t care. He himself had decided one try was more than enough, his sister had been long gone by then, so he forgot about the whole thing and went back to his old coping mechanisms.

That day though, as they took the door, followed a short corridor, and ended up in a waiting room, he couldn’t help but wonder why Reed had signed up in the first place. If he had gone through the whole process hoping to find his soulmate only to be told it most likely was Hank, he could imagine how much of a bummer it must have been. Consequently, he could understand why Reed wanted to learn the results were a mistake. However, as soon as he laid his eyes on the two androids already waiting, Hank should have known none of them would be so lucky.

Gavin gave a side glance to the robots, chose a chair in the corner opposite to them and sat down with his arms crossed, near a second door that probably led to an office. Hank hesitated a moment, then sat on the same side as Gavin, leaving two chairs between them. That way, he had the small table that stood in the middle of the room between the androids and himself. _‘I could swear I’ve already seen them somewhere,’_ he thought to himself.

A heavy silence fell on the waiting room. Gavin absorbed himself in the contemplation of his phone while Hank pretended to read a flyer he found on the table. He had the feeling the two machines were staring at them and it made him want to fidget. He tried to subtly take a look at them above his flyer.

The smaller one had soft features, perfect brown hair and long, elegant fingers that played idly with a coin. He was wearing a button-down white shirt and a pair of dark trousers: even though it wasn’t exactly a suit, it was far more professional looking than Hank’s old hippy shirt. Chocolate puppy eyes met his gaze and held it, bright with curiosity. He smelled like an omega, one of the sweetest smells Hank had ever encountered if he were honest, and he had to remind himself it was completely artificial, created in a laboratory with the intended purpose to entice human alphas.

The other sat right next to him and looked exactly like the first one. They could have been twins if it weren’t for a few details. The second one looked taller, broader, his jaw was more pronounced, and his eyes were a piercing blue. He was an alpha through and through, not just by the way he smelled but also by how he briefly stared Hank down before looking away with indifference, as if he’d scanned him, analysed him and came back on the other side completely unimpressed by the results. He held himself straight – stiff, even –, hands on his knees, as if they’d forgotten to give his back the ability to bend. Both had chosen to keep their LED, shining bright blue on their temple, which was rare among androids since the revolution.

At first, Hank couldn’t place them. All androids of the same model looked similar, so maybe it wasn’t those two he had already seen but one like them… And then, it hit him like a brick. Weren’t they the androids that had joined the DPD like… last week? Hank had only seen them from afar at the precinct, had never interacted with them, but now that the thought had crossed his mind, they did look like the machines real police officers were now supposed to call “detectives”. Fantastic.

The door opened after a few moments.

“You’re all here,” the woman who appeared on the other side said after scanning the room. “Good. Come on in.”

Nobody reacted at first. _‘All four of us? Oh no…’_ The alpha android was the first to get on his feet, immediately followed by his companion. Gavin’s eyes briefly met Hank’s and, for once, he felt as if they were on the same wavelength: _‘what the fuck is happening here?’_ The two humans reluctantly followed, and the lady closed the door behind them.

One wall of her office had been replaced with a screen projecting a dense, misty forest. The trees were moving softly under a breeze and the quality was so high it looked like the room was opening to the Amazon rainforest. A desk stood on the other side, with one of those paper-thin computer screens that could become transparent. Four chairs had been crammed in front of it; Hank guessed the small space only contained two most of the time and the lady had fetched more just for them. How nice of her.

“Please, take a seat,” she offered with an extended hand.

She got past them to take her place on the other side of the desk while the four men stood in silence, considering each other then the seats in the weirdest game of musical chairs imaginable. Eventually, Hank grunted and plopped down on the one nearest the exit. Gavin gingerly sat next to him and the androids took the remaining chairs.

The woman smiled at them – dark skin, no LED, but she smelled synthetic, and the absence of any wrinkle or imperfection of any kind on her face gave it away anyway.

“First of all, I would like to say thank you for coming here and for trusting our service,” she said, obviously repeating some mandatory welcome speech. “The program ‘Soul Algorithm’ has contributed to the happiness of millions of couples throughout the country and it keeps thriving after it has been opened to androids.”

Oh, so now the glorified toasters could have soulmates? Hanks filed that as further proof the algorithm was and always had been an utter scam.

“Now, we are here today because you, Connor and Nines,” she continued, pointing alternatively to the androids, “have recently registered, and filled the necessary tests.”

Nines? The taller one didn’t even have a real name?

“Your results are a bit… unusual, but it’s not the first time we’ve seen something like it.”

“Oh, really?” Gavin interjected.

His voice was a bit higher than usual and Hank knew him well enough by now to take it as a sign his anger was on a steady rise. The woman glanced at him, but resumed her explanation after he made no sign he wanted to express any further comment.

“The algorithm provides for each individual a list of potential partners and their compatibility rate with the person. Usually, the difference between the most compatible result and the second one is significant enough that we encourage our client to get to know this person first, before attempting to contact someone else on their list. However, it sometimes occurs that more than two persons have very high compatibility rates. When the numbers are close enough, we bend the rules a little and suggest some other options.”

Her costumer service smile widened, like she was delivering good news, and Hank raised his hand to his face to rub at his eyes. It was the weekend, goddamn it, and he didn’t have a shift at the precinct: why did he left his bed this morning?

“The four of you are in such a situation. Connor, Nines, you have a very high compatibility rate – 97%, actually. Normally, if only one of you had shown a great compatibility with either Mr. Anderson or Mr. Reed, we wouldn’t have organised such a meeting. However, Mr. Anderson and Mr. Reed ended up at the top of both your lists.”

“First, I was highly compatible with Hank fucking Anderson, and now with two tin cans,” Gavin mumbled, arms crossed and eyes on an invisible spot on the wall. “Fuck my life.”

The woman from CyberLife blinked, a pop-up somewhere probably telling her to hit Reed in the face – Hank could understand the feeling – but she said nothing. After all, as soon as he was out of her office, she could just forget about him. Without turning his head, Hank eyed the alpha android, wondering if he would react to the words “tin cans”.

“What are the numbers?” he asked instead, voice steady and cold.

“Connor has a 96% compatibility with both Hank and Gavin, while Nines is at 96.3 with Gavin and 93.9 with Hank. Those are still particularly high numbers: couples have formed and gotten married with less than that. Since Mr. Anderson and Mr. Reed have already been made aware of their 94.7% compatibility and since there was a possibility they already were in a relationship, we thought best to put you all- ”

“Hell, no!” the two humans protested at the same time.

“Nothing ever happened!” Gavin added.

Guess they didn’t keep a log on how poorly their first appointment had gone. Hank vaguely remembered he’d gotten an email with some survey about his overall satisfaction with the service, but he had never bothered to fill it.

“Four persons, isn’t that a bit… strange?” the omega android said, and Hank’s brain faltered.

His voice wasn’t much different from his companion’s, a bit lighter perhaps, but it was just so weird, like it was too raspy for his innocent features. Who had designed him? Because clearly, Hank thought a few choices warranted some explanations.

“As I said, it’s not the first time something like that have happened. Some people are very happy with two, three, or even more partners.”

“Ah, Jesus,” Gavin said, still not looking at anyone, and it was unclear if he was reacting to the conversation or to something going through his mind.

“Anyway,” the woman continued. “You are all here today because Connor and Nines wanted to know their results, but what you do with it is your choice alone. As you may already know, our program also offers workshop activities, fun date ideas or even couple counselling to help potential partners to get to know each other.” She started to collect a bunch of flyers from one of her drawers. “Of course, you can also do things in your own way- ”

Gavin got on his feet before she could say more.

“Listen, this is clearly a waste of time. I should never have come here in the first place. I’m not even looking for a relationship at the moment and I’m certainly not interested in one with any of the people here,” he added with a wave of his hand toward the three other men.

The woman remained perfectly calm – she probably had seen worse anyway.

“I know this is a lot to take in. The ‘Soul Algorithm’ program does not come with any obligation. Some people pursue romantic relationships, others become very good friends, and some break up after a few months. Sometimes, in situations like yours, only two persons become lovers, or they form multiple, separate relationships… The possibilities are endless here. The algorithm is just here to tell you than being in contact with the persons you met today could greatly improve your general level of happiness, no matter how you choose to go about it.”

“Yeah, I hear you. But I also don’t care. I’m satisfied with my life as it is, thank you very much, so I’m gonna go home and take my name off your database, as I should have done years ago.”

With that, he turned on his heels and headed toward the door – to everyone’s surprise but Hank’s. The taller android’s gaze followed him. He had one eyebrow raised – it was literally the only thing that had moved on his face, the rest remaining completely emotionless. As Gavin exited the room, the alpha lowered his eyes to Hank, and he realised the omega was also staring at him.

He’d kept his mouth shut so far, mostly because the two androids made him feel uneasy. He just didn’t know how to react to talking machines – he never used the voice command on his phone either because he felt too dumb talking to an object, maybe he was too old for this kind of technology. It also felt like it was too much for his brain to take in: three potential “soulmates”, Gavin and two tin cans? He wished he’d never listened to his sister in the first place.

It didn’t matter: he never believed a stupid algorithm could tell him how to choose his partners and he wasn’t going to start now.

“For once, I agree with Gavin Reed.” He got up with a grunt as his joints protested. “I should have taken my name out as well. I have no desire to get to know… androids, so… goodbye.”

He got out of the room before anyone could say anything and rushed out of the building. The sun made him squint. Gavin was long gone. Hank ignored the weird look an android gave him as he brushed past him to enter the store. He would have never guessed his day would start out so crazy, but it was still early. If he went on Cyberlife’s website and resigned his account, they would never contact him again, and he could forget about what had just happened. This was as good a plan as any.

He started walking in the direction of his car, not wanting to be here when the two androids would get out.


	2. Home Invasion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor decides it would be best for the two androids to take matters into their own hands and confront the humans. Hank would prefer to go back to sleep.

Hank startled awake. He opened his eyes to a dark room: some light from the street was spilling in through the window, just enough to see the shadows of his furniture. His alarm clock indicated 10:30pm. He laid motionless on his bed for a while, senses on high alert. He could perceive no movement, no sound, yet he was certain _something_ had woken him up. His instinct was screaming he was in danger.

He rolled on his side and carefully got up, trying not to make his bed creak too much. He reached for his gun on the bedside table. His hand snaked between the empty glass bottles abandoned there. He hadn’t drunk that much in the evening – well, in comparison to his worst nights, at least. He managed to retrieve his firearm without knocking anything on the ground. He tiptoed toward the door: he could see light from underneath it, but he genuinely couldn’t remember if he had turned off the lights in the rest of the house before passing out on his bed.

As soon as he opened the door, he heard whispered babbles coming from the living room:

“Look at you, such a big, fluffy dog. Good boy!”

Hank hesitantly walked outside his bedroom. He held the gun by his side with both hands, pointing to the ground. The sound had confirmed someone had broken into his house, but what kind of burglar would stop to pet his dog? The voice was also impossible to forget, even though he’d heard it just once.

“What on Earth are you doing here?” he asked abruptly as soon as the living room was fully into view.

The android from this morning – the omega one – was sitting on the floor next to the sofa, Sumo sprawled on his lap. The lights were on, as were the ones in the kitchen, and the TV was playing, sound off, confirming Hank had forgotten to turn everything off. The pretty android looked up at him, half of his face basked in the blue light of his LED. He was wearing the same clothes.

“You’re awake. Good evening, Lieutenant Anderson.”

Of course, he would have recognised him from the precinct as well. Couldn’t fool the memory of a computer. Hank had to desperately search his.

“Connor?” he said finally with a frown. “Why are you here?”

The android showed no intention of moving. Both of his hands were buried in Sumo’s fur, and the huge dog was looking up at him, already enamoured with the machine.

“After this morning, I thought it would be best to give you time to process the information and try to talk to you once you were in a better disposition. When I reached your address, all the lights were on, indicating you were home. However, knocking and pressing the doorbell triggered no reaction. I was worried you could be in need of assistance, so I took the liberty of letting myself in,” he explained in a tone that made him look even more like a robot.

This morning… Jesus, it almost seemed like a dream. Except it wasn’t, or Hank wouldn’t be the victim of a home invasion.

“If you wanted to make sure I wasn’t dying, why didn’t you check on me?”

Connor looked down at Sumo and his LED cycled yellow once before going back to blue.

“I got distracted,” he admitted. “It happens more and more often since I deviated.” His frown made him look confused by his own actions. “I noticed you have a dog,” he added suddenly, as if giving such a conclusion with a lapful of Saint-Bernard qualified him for the title of best detective of the year. “I like dogs. What’s your dog’s name?”

He looked up at Hank again and slightly tilted his head to the side. Hank’s heart made a weird leap in his chest.

“What’s it to you?” he blurted out.

The LED cycled yellow again.

“That’s a strange name.”

Hank blinked several times.

“Did you just… what?” Androids had a shitty humour now, wonders of technology. “Sumo,” he finally managed to answer. “I call him Sumo.”

Connor gave a little smile, looking suspiciously happy to have caught Hank off guard. He took Sumo’s face between his hands.

“Hello, Sumo. You’re so handsome,” he cooed in a silly voice, and Sumo’s tail thumped on the ground.

Hank felt his jaw dropped.

“How did you even get inside, anyway?”

“I didn’t break any window if that’s what you worried about. I recently downloaded a pack with lockpicking skills.”

“Good for you. Now get out.” He made a gesture with his hand, which made him realised he still had his gun. They both eyed it.

“Are you going to shoot me?”

“No!” Hank retorted drily. He put the weapon down next to his old record player. A neatly arranged pile of vinyls sat next to it. Hank squinted at it. Too neat, actually, each one carefully aligned with the one underneath. He never tidied his own place like that. “You went through my shit?”

“No,” Connor answered immediately.

He sounded so defensive Hank knew with no doubt he was lying. Who would give an android the ability to simulate defensiveness? What was even the point of making him a bad liar?

“A little,” he admitted eventually under Hank’s scrutiny. His LED flashed yellow.

“Just… get out.”

“Don’t you want to talk about it?” Connor asked quickly.

“About what?”

“About what we learned this morning, the results of the tests. You signed up to the program so, surely, you were expecting something out of it.”

“I signed up years ago so my family would leave me alone, and I regret it now.”

“But the system gave us a nearly perfect compatibility. Don’t you want to know why? Don’t you want to try to get to know each other?”

“Nope. The system clearly made a mistake. That’s all.”

Connor didn’t answer immediately. He eyed Hank up and down, his LED blinking fast.

“We could go outside. I’ll pay you a drink,” he finally offered.

Did he had some sort of program in there that had scanned Hank, deduced he was a raging alcoholic and decided the prospect of free booze was the best way to tempt him? He would have been offended if it wasn’t working. His intention had been to kick the android out and go back to his room to drink himself into oblivion. The perspective of doing it in a familiar bar and not alone in his dark bedroom was slightly more appealing.

“There is a baseball game playing tonight,” Connor added, as if sensing his hesitation. “We could probably catch the end of it.”

Hank grunted.

“Fine. But you better not talk the entire time.”

He was going to regret this.

Connor smiled at him with all his teeth and Hank caught the slightest whiff of _pleased omega_ that went straight to his lower belly. He made the decision right here and then to look up which twisted mind had thought of this walking wet dream and have a conversation with them.

Connor kept his mouth wisely shut on the way to Jimmy’s, which gave Hank all the opportunity he needed to think.

How could this have happened? That the algorithm was not as infallible as it claimed to be wasn’t much of a surprise, but how could it fuck up so badly and pair Hank not with one, but with two androids? Granted, back when he’d first taken the tests there hadn’t been a question about his willingness to date androids. They simply weren’t part of the program. These days, the questionnaire probably asked the participant if they would be ready to have a relationship with a plastic person. Hank wouldn’t be surprised to learn some people out there had no problem with it. To tell the truth, he found that a bit pathetic: he would rather stay on his own than sleep with a cold, heartless machine.

“Here,” he said, coming back to reality when they nearly walked past the bar. “I know this place.”

He pushed the door open as Connor offered him a smile. Why were his eyes so expressive? He let the omega walk in first and followed him inside.

Hank understood his mistake as soon as Connor set one foot inside the bar and several patrons glared at his LED. The front door had been exhibiting a “No Androids” sign just a few months ago and the fact that it was now illegal didn’t mean the mentalities had changed overnight. Coming here with an android who wasn’t particularly trying to hide his identity wasn’t his brightest idea.

 _‘Fucking genius, Hank.’_ He briefly wondered if he’d done it on purpose, if some subconscious part of his brain had wanted to take Connor here in hope the hostility would scare the android away.

He closed his hand around Connor’s elbow and shot everyone the meanest, most aggressive alpha look he could muster, before pushing the omega toward the nearest table. He sat in front of him, making sure he had his back to the wall and the entire room in his line of sight. Regulars knew he was a cop; with a bit of luck, it would be enough to keep them minding their own business.

“Is something the matter, Lieutenant?”

“Nope. Everything is fine. You wanted to go outside, now we’re here, so don’t complain.”

Connor chose to not answer that.

Not much had changed at Jimmy’s since the revolution. Hank had never seen an android here before. The usual faces were hunched-up over their glass that night, along with some new patrons. Most of them were drinking alone in complete silence. One guy was stumbling toward the toilets. The TV behind the bar was on, but Hank barely paid attention to the game. There were only betas and alphas scattered around the bar. Jimmy’s wasn’t exactly a “fun date idea” as the CyberLife lady would put it: you didn’t come here to meet someone; you came here to drink your problems away.

One guy at the bar kept staring at Connor with obvious hatred, and Hank felt the urge to go punch him.

“Do you want me to order a drink for you?” Connor asked.

Hank’s eyes snapped back to him.

“No. I’m going.” He got up but hesitated after two steps. “Don’t move. Scream if you need help.”

The insolent little shit smirked.

“I appreciate your concern, but I’m perfectly capable of defending myself,” he retorted, way too smug.

“I’m not… I’m not concerned about you!” Hank protested immediately. “I just don’t want to make a scene, okay?”

“If you say so.”

Hank grunted, then turned away, muttering under his breath. Goddamn android… If some idiot started a fight, it would be Hank’s duty to break it, and then he would have to make some arrests and fill paperwork… He wanted none of that on his day off. That was his only reason for making sure Connor would make it through the night okay.

As he ordered a beer, Jimmy shot him a look that clearly meant: _‘What are you doing, Hank?’_ but thankfully kept his mouth shut. _‘Well, I don’t know what I’m doing. Do you?’_ He’d lost control of his life years ago. With age, he’d learned to roll with it.

He came back to his seat, beer in hand. Connor was waiting, hands neatly on top of each other on the table.

“Shit, you wanted something?”

“I can’t drink,” the android answered.

“Oh yeah. And don’t forget you’re paying.”

He took a sip of his drink, eyes drifting to the TV. What was the world coming to? Here he was, in his usual bar, with an android as his drinking buddy. An android who apparently couldn’t take his eyes off of him. Hank grunted in his beer.

“Jesus, don’t just stare at me without saying anything like that. It’s creepy.”

“I apologise, Lieutenant.”

Connor averted his gaze toward his hands and seemed to think for a while.

“Do you have any questions you would like to ask?” he said eventually. “Most humans have limited knowledge on androids. Maybe it would… alleviate your uneasiness.”

Hank’s first instinct was to answer “Heck, no!” – the less he knew about androids, the better – but his curiosity got the better of him.

“Actually, I’d like to know why you signed up to this stupid ‘Soul Algorithm’ service in the first place?”

This question seemed to elicit more of a reaction than Hank was expecting. Connor ducked his head, but Hank could still see his cheeks darken. _‘He’s blushing,’_ he realised. But not pink; blue. It made sense in a way – Hank knew thirium was blue from the crime scenes involving androids he’d been at – but it was… weird. Just weird. And not at all endearing. The way Hank’s heart leapt in his chest was due to disgust and nothing else. Right? Right.

“Before the emancipation laws, I was already working as a detective. In fact, I was created to solve cases involving androids,” Connor explained. “It didn’t turn out well, and I became a deviant. I… played my part in the revolution. After that, I spent months helping Markus.”

“Markus?”

“The leader of the revolution.”

“Oh yeah, RoboJesus. Saw him on TV.”

Connor’s LED blinked yellow.

“It was more of a political role. I didn’t like it, but it had to be done. As soon as they didn’t need me anymore, I came back to Detroit. I spent all my life fighting, against androids, for androids. I guess I just want to try and enjoy what we fought for. I want to experience everything: joy, pain, happiness, boredom… love. A normal life, where I get to go to work and spend time with the people I like without having to worry about everyone getting called back to the factories and deactivated.”

They’d tried that in the beginning of the revolution. Some way of putting an end to the problem by obliterating it completely. It hadn’t worked, obviously, and CyberLife was now controlled by androids. It had seemed like a reasonable solution when Hank had heard of it on the news, but the way Connor said “everyone” – not as in “every machine” but as in “all the people I know” – made something akin to discomfort bloom in Hank’s chest.

“Nines agreed with me, so we found a real place to live in, not a storage space or a charging dock, and we got a job at the DPD.”

“Where’s your friend at, by the way?” Hank asked, raising his glass to his lips.

“Nines? He went to see Gavin Reed.”

A genuine laugh shook Hank’s shoulders, and he slammed his beer down with more force than was necessary.

“He’s with Reed? I wish I could see that. Well, good luck to your friend cause he’s gonna need it.” He almost had pity for the poor android. Gavin was a pain in the ass, and he hated alphas: this Nines guy was probably having a worse evening than him. “So you were what? Some kind of a hero during the revolution?” Hank had barely followed the whole thing on the news, and he couldn’t remember if he’d seen him next to the other android leaders.

Connor averted his gaze.

“I wouldn’t say that. Markus is the one who led our people. North, Josh, Simon… they saved many lives, even before the uprising. None of it would have been possible without them. I made a lot of mistakes before I finally opened my eyes. I switched sides at the last moment, almost too late, actually.”

If Connor had been a suspect during an interrogation, Hank would have said he was reading guilt on his face. His smell even changed slightly – if Hank had been just a tad farther, he probably wouldn’t have noticed – to broadcast distress. Hank was vaguely aware of his instincts responding, like a quiet voice at the back of his head telling him the omega’s new disposition wasn’t acceptable and had to be changed somehow.

“What I mean is when I realised there was nothing more I could do for them, I found myself at a loss as to what I was supposed to do with myself,” Connor continued. “I always had clear instructions: at first they were given to me by CyberLife, then by my own sense of duty toward other androids. It never gave me time to appreciate my own deviancy, to experiment, and live and understand what makes us… well, human. And that’s why Nines and me decided to have as normal a life as we could hope for. The ‘Soul Algorithm’ program was just a bonus: dating seemed like an important part of the human experience from what we’ve seen in movies – well, for some humans at least – and we thought we could give it a try.”

“What a disappointment the results must have been for you,” was Hank’s automatic response. He took another sip of his beer. Self-deprecation was his go-to reaction to almost every situation; he didn’t even think about it anymore, the words just came out of his mouth.

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Connor retorted. “You’re a very attractive alpha.”

Hank chocked on his beer and coughed so loudly half the bar turned to look at him.

“Are you alright, Lieutenant?”

Hank took several minutes to answer.

“You can’t go walking around saying shit like that,” he finally blurted out once he’d regained his breath.

His face was probably bright red, and not just from the coughing fit. Connor cocked his head to the side. His LED was shining like a beacon in the dim room.

“But I’m not walking.”

Hank opened his mouth, but hesitated.

“Now you’re just shitting me, you know perfectly well it’s just a saying.”

The corners of the omega’s mouth turn upward, as if he couldn’t suppress his grin.

“You insolent little…” Hank began, but he didn’t finish his sentence as he felt an answering smile on his face.

The distress in the other’s scent had disappeared, and the alpha in him couldn’t help but want for it to stay that way.

“I’m just telling the truth, Lieutenant,” Connor argued, raising his hands in an innocent gesture. “You’re quite tall, even for an alpha. Granted, you look like you’ve seen better days, but I’m certain you’re stronger than you look, and you seem in a somewhat decent shape. Your job would indicate you’re a man of action, which is a conventionally appreciated quality in a person of your gender. Moreover, the way you said goodbye to Sumo when we left your house and the way you still keep an eye on the room behind me as if to make sure no one will come bother me are proofs that despite your rough exterior, you care more than you would like to show.”

“First of all, my rough exterior says fuck you,” Hank retorted with no real heat, which earned him a chuckle from the omega. “Second, don’t talk like that, I’ll get the wrong impression.”

“What kind of impression?”

“That you’re flirting with me,” Hank answered, raising his eyebrows as if to say _‘What have you got to answer to that, smartass?’_

“But I am flirting with you, Lieutenant,” Connor said without missing a bit and, boy, the way he said his title should have been illegal.

He hadn’t been in a conversation like that for years and Connor was way too gorgeous for his sanity.

“Oh my god, what did you say you were supposed to be? Some kind of robot detective?”

“Correct. I’m a RK800. I was specifically designed to investigate cases involving androids. I have all the relevant knowledge and skills. I was just a prototype though, and I’m the only one like me currently activated. You could say I’m literally one of a kind.”

“I could have told you that myself,” Hank said without thinking, and he got a new smile in answer. “And they also gave you the skills to flirt?”

“Oh no, I picked that up myself.” And he fucking winked. _‘Gosh, he’s so pretty,’_ Hank thought, and it certainly wasn’t the first time that night.

“Why did they make you an omega? I can get why they would want your friend to be an alpha, and I’m not saying an omega can’t do the job, but if they wanted you to have the best performances possible, making you an omega seems… contradictory. You would just encounter unnecessary obstacles along the way.”

Hank had no illusions concerning the reality of his own work environment. Gavin Reed was a complete dick, but when he saw the way some alpha officers treated him, he could understand what prompted the omega to be so feisty and aggressive most of the time. If Connor had to work with humans, they would just question all his deductions, which would ultimately slow him down. Plus, to his knowledge, only sex androids had secondary genders, but he kept that to himself, because he really didn’t want his mind to go there.

Connor’s LED blinked yellow as he looked down at the table. Hank thought for a moment he wouldn’t answer and would tell him to stop asking invasive questions like that, but the younger man seemed to take a decision.

“They didn’t, actually. Made me an omega. The people running CyberLife back then thought I had failed, so they created the RK900 – Nines – to take over me. They wanted him to be more of a hunter than a detective. I was too curious, I always wanted to understand, and even back then they could see it put me at a risk of becoming a deviant. They corrected in Nines everything they thought was wrong with me. They made him an alpha, so humans would cooperate more easily. At my creation, like most androids, I wasn’t given a secondary gender. My creators thought people would consider me as a beta, even if only subconsciously, and treat me as such. That way, I wouldn’t be perceived as a threat and I would win people’s trust more easily. After the revolution, I chose to have the relevant modifications installed, so I would be seen as an omega.”

“Why?” The word was out before Hank could think.

“I like it better. I know it doesn’t make my life easier, but it feels more like… me. Not the machine CyberLife created, but the person I became in spite of what they wanted.”

Hank frowned. “So, you’re like… what? Trans?”

A blink of yellow again, more thoughtful than hesitant.

“I wouldn’t compare my experience to that of a human.”

Hank shook his head, nonetheless. “Trans robots, what a strange place the world is turning into.”

“Robots have always been trans.” Connor looked at the table again and added in the smallest voice possible: “Have you never heard of the… Trans… formers?”

Hank remained silent, dumbfounded. Had he heard that correctly? Connor kept glancing his way, blushing blue again.

“Oh my god, that’s terrible!” Hank eventually managed to say. Just as he broke the silence, his shoulders started shaking with uncontrollable laughter.

“I’m sorry,” the omega whispered sheepishly.

Hank’s laughter grew the more embarrassed he looked. It was so bad he had no other option but to laugh.

“Are bad puns another thing you learned on your own?”

“Yes.”

He couldn’t help but notice how cute the omega looked, fidgeting on the other side of the table. As Hank finally calmed down and brushed off the tears in his eyes, Connor looked up with a pleased smile and Hank had the almost unbearable urge to reach out and take his hand. He’d been on dates with a few omegas, a long time ago during his college years but he didn’t think he’d ever met someone as enticing as the one in front of him right now.

“Do you mind me asking…?” Connor began gingerly. He tilted his head again. It was probably a weird thought, but his big brown eyes and mannerism gave off a bit of a “lost puppy” vibe.

“What?”

“This morning, your behaviour and stress level indicated some sort of… uneasiness toward androids, but you seem to warn up to me easily enough. What is your exact opinion on androids?”

The mirth that had settled in Hank’s heart evaporated immediately. Reality came back to him with the subtlety of a bucketful of cold water over his head. Connor wasn’t an impossibly gorgeous omega coming on to him with an audacity he’d rarely seen. He was a fucking machine, a few pieces of metal covered in plastic. He couldn’t believe how quick he had been to forget it.

Yet, he couldn’t blame himself: it was the way those machines had been built, to perfectly imitate humans, to blend in among real people. Connor’s facial expressions looked so genuine: his fidgety little tics made him look imperfect, he could smile and convey emotions as if they came from the spur of the moment and were not carefully simulated reactions prompted by some inner programming. And his smell, his goddamn smell. The synthetic undertone was so easy to miss his dumb alpha brain convinced itself he was in front of an omega made of flesh and bones. It triggered the usual instincts in him, the need to protect, the desire to keep the other close and happy. They even had an instant chemistry: it was so easy to talk to Connor, to let him mess with Hank in good spirit.

All of this made him look so much like a real person Hank had acted in kind. But it wasn’t real. People who were still anti-androids said their “humanity”, what they called deviancy, was a virus they could pass to each other; not real feelings, just a fucking computer virus that made them act irrationally. It messed with their programming to prevent them from acting the way they’d been intended to, but it was still just that: programming. Their actions didn’t come from human feelings and emotions. It came from some new lines of code, somewhere in their inner computer, that sent out instructions in their components depending on the situation. _‘If A, then B.’_ It was maybe the most advanced kind of technology currently known to man, but it was still just programming.

Hank was reminded of that in the split of a second. His smile fell, his fingers tightened on his glass, and all his walls came back up.

“My opinion?” The venom in his own voice took him by surprise. “My opinion is pretty straightforward: androids are just machines. If it were up to me, I’d put you all in a dumpster and set fire to it.”

The immediate pain on Connor’s face made his stomach flip, made him want to take back his words. He pushed the feeling down. It wasn’t real. It was a simulation. Androids themselves might believe it was real, but that couldn’t change the facts.

Connor’s LED settled firmly on yellow.

“Is there… any particular reason behind your hatred for androids?”

The memories flooded his brain. Grief efficiently killed whatever sympathy he had left for the android.

“Yeah,” he said through gritted teeth. “There is one.”

Connor looked upset but made no attempt to push him further.

“Look. The way I see it, things are pretty simple. I don’t want a relationship right now with anyone, and I certainly don’t want an android around. The algorithm made a mistake and there is nothing you could say to change my mind. If you want to go pester Reed with this shit, knock yourself out, but you’re not gonna get anything out of me.”

Hank got up to get a second beer. He was too sober for this, and he hoped a hangover would make him forget the details of this conversation in the morning. When he came back, Connor’s LED was still spinning yellow. The android made no further attempt to get him to talk.


	3. Not Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nines is determined to fulfil his mission, with or without Gavin's cooperation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the previous one were supposed to be one chapter but it got too long, so I cut it in two, but then I thought I wouldn't wait too long before posting the second part. Anyway, Nines' POV was fun to write.

Despite the darkness, Nines could clearly see Detective Reed’s face as the human exited his building, a trash bag in hands. It looked like Nines would not have to wait anymore. He watched as the omega got closer to the part of the courtyard where the huge dumpsters sat – and where Nines remained hidden in the shadows, hand on his LED. When his target got close enough, Nines took one step forward and lowered his arm, revealing the blue light coming from his temple.

“Good evening, Detective Reed.”

The man shrieked and flailed the trash bag wildly in his direction. Nines caught it easily. He had to suppress a mocking grin.

“Do not worry. I am not here to hurt you.”

“What are you doing here, freak?” Gavin yelled, clearly not paying attention to what Nines had just said.

The RK900 deduced the detective did not like being caught off guard and retaliated by being overtly aggressive.

“I needed to see you, and since you did not let me up when I rang at your apartment, I decided to wait to see if you would come out,” he explained calmly.

“By standing in the shadows like a serial killer?”

“Statistically speaking, serial killers are not more likely to prey on you in the dark than in a lighted environment.”

Gavin froze for a second. He had crossed his arms in front of his chest in a defensive manner. He eyed Nines, as if he were scanning him, then he blinked.

“Woah, thanks. I feel better already.”

Nines gave the expected polite response: “You’re welcome” as he raised the lid of the dumpster with one hand to throw the trash bag in it with the other. Gavin frowned. The dumpster slammed shut.

“That was sarcasm… You know what? Never mind. You tin cans are supposed to have a perfect memory, aren’t you? Have you already forgotten what I told you half an hour ago when you rang my apartment?”

Nines did not have to do an extensive search to pull that information out of his databanks.

“You told me to ‘fuck off’, detective.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

“This order is contradictory to my previous instructions. Connor made very clear he wanted me to befriend you.”

Nines took one more step forward but stopped as soon as Gavin took one step back. After a quick reflection, he clasped his hands behind his back and made an effort not to stare the human right in the face.

During the few months of his very short life, Nines had only cohabitated with androids. His arrival at the DPD had made painfully obvious he knew little to nothing concerning interactions with humans. Connor had been built to work alongside them, not him: he did not have the same social skills in his programming. He had noticed most people felt intimidated by his presence: it came from the artificial alpha pheromones he exuded, as well as his height. He was tall enough to effortlessly tower over a good chunk of the population, including Gavin Reed.

He did not understand the intricacies of social norms, how far you were supposed to stand from someone and how much you were supposed to blink in a minute. He could always research it, but he usually deemed it a waste of time. However, if he wanted this mission to go as smoothly as possible, he would have to make an effort. He hoped a non-threatening posture would put the omega more at ease.

“I suggest we start by getting to know each other. An informal conversation seems the best way to exchange personal information. Would you like to accompany me on a stroll?”

Nines was disappointed to see his attempt was not well received: Gavin looked even more defensive.

“What the fuck? Hell no, I’m gonna go home.”

“Then perhaps I could come with you? Talking in a private setting would achieve similar results.”

“If I wasn’t a cop myself, I would have called them by now,” Gavin retorted.

His voice was even colder than when they first started, and a quick analysis of his stress levels indicated he was only getting less receptive by the minute. Nines frowned, an unnecessary gesture he could not help but execute when his preconstructions did not play out as he intended. Connor said it was frustration.

He did a quick research and came up with the conclusion that most omegas felt scared at the idea of being alone at night with an unknown alpha. He changed his strategy accordingly and did another research. His LED blinked yellow in the dark.

“There is a bar not too far away. Reviews on the Internet show it is popular among people of your age group. It is also android-friendly. Would you like to grab a drink with me?” he asked, using the appropriate colloquialism. Maybe the omega would feel more secured with a lot of people around them.

Gavin hesitated.

“Sure,” he said slowly. “Let me just go grab my jacket.”

Another internal research.

“Despite the time, the current temperature is still in the ideal range for human comfort. If you get back inside, I fear you will not come back down.”

“Damn, he _is_ a good detective after all.”

This time, Nines caught on the sarcasm easily.

“Well, I don’t have my wallet, so I’d have to go back up either way,” Gavin added with an apologetic gesture that did not seem heartfelt.

“I will pay for you.”

Gavin eyed the door at the other end of the courtyard, as if he were evaluating his chances to get there before Nines. They were close to zero. The human must have come to the same conclusion because he sighed.

“Is there any way you’ll let me go back to my apartment?”

“Unlikely,” Nines answered truthfully. “I will fulfil my task, with or without your cooperation. However, rest assured I will not hurt you or pose any threat to you in the process.”

Gavin met his eyes for the first time that evening.

“Jesus, you sound so weird. I guess the worst that could come out of it is you being a pain in my ass the entire evening… Fine, let’s go. Maybe I’ll find someone more interesting than you at the bar.”

Impossible. Nines was, after all, the best android prototype currently in existence. He kept that to himself, however, and led Gavin out on the street.

The bar was easy to find and, as calculated, only a few minutes away. Gavin refused to let Nines get the door for him and marched in first. It was a place with loud music and scarce lighting. It was not a nightclub, however – too small. Most patrons remained seated: the clear space allotted to dancing at the back could only welcome a limited number of persons.

As anticipated, a few androids were scattered around the room. They tended to stick together, but Nines spotted two mixed couples engrossed in conversation. An android who had chosen to keep his LED stood behind the counter. Gavin and Nines’ arrival warranted no particular reaction from the patrons.

Nines followed Gavin to the nearest empty table.

“Damn, you were right. This place seems popular,” the omega commented with a look around.

"Have you never been here before? It is conveniently close to your home,” Nines remarked as he took the seat in front of him. Was it the presence of androids that deterred him from coming to this place?

Gavin glanced at him before taking a hold of the drink menu. He kept his eyes on it as he answered:

“I rarely go outside to drink. Contrary to a few other cops, I don’t think alcohol is a great way to cope with the stress. Plus, the alcohol-suppressants mix makes me sick anyway.”

Nines added the information that Gavin was taking suppressants to the detective’s profile almost without thinking. It was a feature that had been built into him to help collect as many data as possible on his targets. The intended purpose had been to identify the triggering factors of deviancy in androids; now, Nines had profiles on everybody he came in contact with regularly.

This morning, he had already noted Gavin was wearing a copious amount of a perfume that had been designed to cover omega pheromones. Most suppressants were only meant to reduce the impact of heats and act as a birth control. A few inhibited the production of omega pheromones; some were efficient enough to allow omegas to pass as betas. However, they were more expensive and reviews online taught Nines they were known to have an extended list of undesirable side effects. The deodorants and perfumes marketed as a way to conceal your scent were cheaper – even if their smell was particularly repulsive in Nines’ opinion. The one Gavin was using was starting to wear off by now and Nines’ advanced olfactory receptors could make out his true scent among all the other smells in the bar.

“And yet, my analysis shows you smoke an unhealthy amount.”

“Well, I never said I was perfect, now, did I?” the detective retorted.

True to his words, he chose a non-alcoholic cocktail. Nines gestured for him to stay seated and blinked at the bartender from across the room. His LED flickered as he received Nines’ order.

“Would you look at that? You’re not completely useless after all,” Gavin said as he observed the phenomenon.

They fell into silence until Nines suddenly remembered Connor had informed him that, according to his own observations, most humans felt uncomfortable when a pause in the conversation stretched too long.

“I request the permission to ask private questions,” he said immediately.

Gavin’s eyes, that had wandered toward a human-android couple at a table nearby, snapped back to him.

“Jeez. I can’t promise I’ll answer them.”

It was enough for Nines.

“I would like to know your opinion on androids. It seems an essential information to know going forward in our relationship and your… choice of vocabulary would point toward the existence of strong feelings on your part.”

“Didn’t like being called tin can?” Gavin asked with a mocking grin.

Nines intertwined his fingers on top of the table.

“No. Not really,” he answered without blinking.

Gavin grunted.

“It was just words. I don’t care about androids. Look, the world seems weird now,” he added when he realised Nines was waiting for more. “A few years back, CyberLife creates you guys to take half of our jobs and now you’re not machines anymore, but living people? It just… came out of nowhere and it’s weird. I mean, my laptop never had any revendications and the technology has been around longer than you. I was sceptical at first. I’m not an engineer, I don’t understand how any of this shit works, you know? But now most people seem to agree with you, and you have the law on your side, so I guess we just gotta live with our time, right?”

Nines cocked his head to the side. The detective’s reasoning made no sense and was full of contradictions. He felt his frustration coming back, but Connor had warned him humans tended to be like that.

“Right,” he repeated, and it sounded almost like a question, but Gavin was already talking again:

“I never had an android before the revolution, I didn’t know anyone who had one. Hell, I barely interacted with the few we had at the precinct. I have no idea how I’m supposed to treat a machine that has feelings.”

A waitress arrived at that moment to put Gavin’s drink in front of him. The bar offered a few products suitable for android consumption, but Nines had chosen not to take anything. He wanted to be able to put his undivided attention in his mission. He waited for the waitress to leave before answering.

“You could start by treating them with the same amount of respect you give to humans.”

A colourful straw was sticking out of Gavin’s fancy looking drink. Nines idly wondered if he had taken one of the priciest ones just to spite him. Gavin snorted as he took a sip.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not particularly… agreeable toward other humans either.”

Nines replayed the events of this morning in his head, noting once again the obvious tension that had transpired between Lieutenant Anderson and Detective Reed.

“Correct,” he concluded. He pondered on his next words for a while, then decided Gavin would not mind being pushed around a bit. “May I ask you what is pushing you to be such a bitch?”

A surprised laughter escaped Gavin’s chest.

“Jesus, it sounds so weird in your mouth, especially when you sit there all proper and shit.”

“Your propension to use crude words made me want to try it,” Nines explained in all honesty.

“I’m already a bad influence on you, and we’ve known each other for less than a day,” the detective commented, shaking his head. “Right, you got me: I don’t like androids, I don’t like humans, I don’t like anybody. I’m a bitch because my kink is people leaving me the fuck alone.”

Nines did not react but instead stared at Gavin, lost in thought.

“Woah, what are you doing? Don’t do that shit!” he said immediately, his aggressivity coming back in the bat of an eye.

“Do what?” Nines asked absentmindedly.

“Your thing is spinning yellow. Are you scanning me or something?”

“I am trying to understand your behaviour.”

“Well, stop it.”

Of course, Nines did not listen.

“If your initial reaction this morning was not prompted by the fact that Connor and I are androids, then I must assume it has something to do with Lieutenant Anderson’s and my own identities as alphas.”

Gavin’s eyes grew cold.

“Will you shut up? I’m not scared of alphas.”

“I am not saying you are. I am saying you distrust and dislike them. It may have been triggered by a disastrous experience in your childhood, with a parent or a family member, but I would rather think it was implanted in you and encouraged during your career. You hold a position that is almost uniquely filled by alphas. There is no doubt that you encountered mockery, dismissive remarks and even harassment every step of the way. This must have conditioned you to treat every alpha you meet with instant aggressivity, to defend yourself before they even get a chance to attack you.”

“Thanks, how much do I owe you? You’re sure you wanna be a cop? You’d be better off as a shrink,” Gavin nearly growled.

Nines was not put off by the obvious aggressive demeanour.

“Am I wrong?”

Gavin noisily slurped his drink through the straw.

“Nope, you’re right on the money. I hate alphas, but it’s not like I try to hide it,” he eventually said, as if the admission was almost painful. Gavin’s dismissiveness did not deter Nines from feeling an immense satisfaction at the knowledge his conclusion was correct. “And I have good fucking reasons. My father wasn’t violent, he just made very clear he preferred my alpha brothers. When I said I wanted to join the police academy, all I got was a dismissive ‘of course, sweetheart’. He always said it would be too hard for me, and I should just be a nice omega and find a ‘strong alpha’ to provide for me.”

According to Nines’ databanks, it had been nearly a century since omegas had obtained the right to work, to vote and to have financial independence. However, some people still had conservative opinions and others treated omegas with condescendence, not out of hatred but because they saw omegas as having an almost child-like dependence to individuals traditionally perceived as stronger.

“My alpha co-workers weren’t better, even after I finished the academy,” Gavin continued. “Most omegas in the work force have administrative jobs and even now omegas who go out on the field are a rarity. Every alpha I know told me at least once I would crumble under the pressure or I would mess up a case because a suspect would easily overpower me. It never happened, and even after I proved time and time again that I’m physically fit for the job, that I’m as clever and as good a detective as any alpha, I still get assholes who question every single one of my decisions during a case, who second guess my conclusions and go over my paperwork as if after fifteen fucking years I still don’t know how to do my job.”

The human got so angry he moved his hands around and some of his drink splashed on the table.

“Like, what do they even think? That I get distracted every five minutes thinking about babies and that it prevents me from labelling my evidence correctly? I’m as good as an alpha; hell, I’m better than all of them, actually, because I had to fight harder to get where I am right now! So yeah, I decided if I can’t get their respect, then I would just growl at them until they leave me alone. Once, I heard some shithead saying I was some kind of frigid bitch, but I don’t fucking care, I don’t need an alpha in my life.”

He slammed his drink on the table, which was a relief to Nines because his programming was already pre-constructing how much of it would end up on the floor if he kept flailing it around like that and it was seriously distracting him from the conversation.

“So, in conclusion, it is painfully obvious that this thing,” Gavin made a wild gesture between the two of them, “whatever you want to call it, can’t go anywhere because I can’t stand people like you.” He nodded to himself, as if his reasoning were infallible and Nines had nothing left to do but to agree with him.

Nines was unimpressed.

“On the contrary. I was not raised with the prejudices that plague the human perception of the world. I would even say that to be a good detective, I reject those kinds of baseless opinions: they would only skew my deductions. So, in conclusion,” he mimicked, “I have no reason to treat you as weak and helpless unless proven otherwise. In the same way, I am not subjected to alpha instincts triggered by hormones. I will not feel the need to drag you down in order to feel better about myself. I am also unlikely to answer to your defensiveness with aggressivity of my own, which would prevent the escalation of situations.”

Gavin blinked and his jaw dropped slightly.

“Oh, because you’re so much better than everyone else, aren’t you?”

The quickness of this reply would indicate it was more of an instinctual clapback than a genuine question, but Nines answered nonetheless.

“I am, actually. I am the most advanced prototype ever created by CyberLife and I am the only model in existence, so there is literally no one better than me out there.”

Gavin frowned. Nines’ scans could perceive the omega’s uneasiness had been spiking randomly since the beginning of the conversation, but he had yet to identify the cause. To distract him from whatever it was, Nines barely waited before asking another question.

“Is this why you and Lieutenant Anderson never pursued a relationship, despite the compatibility the algorithm gave you? I am guessing you signed up in hope to find a beta or an omega and were disappointed when your highest potential partner was an alpha.”

“My brothers signed me up as a joke for my birthday,” Gavin explained. “They pressured me into filling the forms and taking the tests, saying shits like you don’t refuse a birthday present and it would make our ‘poor mother’ happy to know I wasn’t alone in life anymore. I said I didn’t need anyone, that I was fine on my own, and they said it would help me find the ‘perfect alpha’. I got mad, saying the algorithm would probably put me with an omega, proving I wasn’t made for an alpha, and I went with the process out of spite. But obviously, the program is a complete scam because it put me with Anderson.”

“Did he ever bother you at the precinct?” Nines asked slowly. For some reason, the idea made him feel something he did not like.

Gavin snorted.

“In nearly four years of working at the same place, we must have said a dozen words to each other, so he never had the opportunity. Back then, he had just lost his son.” Nines immediately saved this information to look it up later. “I’m not saying what happened to him doesn’t suck, okay? But the way he destroyed himself afterward was not my problem to deal with. Granted, he’s slightly better now, but when CyberLife contacted us three years ago, he was just a shell of a human being. He was drunk 24/7, he was probably trying to kill himself. The idea of dating an alpha barely aware of his own actions wasn’t appealing to me in any way. He was in a very dark place and getting him out of it was not my responsibility, so I said no. I told my brothers they could go fuck themselves and I forgot about it.”

And now, the program had assigned him a second alpha. Nines could better understand his reaction but this time, he did not feel the satisfaction that usually came with solving a puzzle. Instead, he felt… preoccupied and he could not determine why exactly.

“Did you ever…”

“No,” Gavin interrupted, raising his hand. “I’m not gonna sit there like I’m being interrogated. It’s my turn to ask questions.”

Nines did his best to ignore his frustration. The advice he had downloaded on romantic relationships earlier in the day all said it was a mutual exchange. It seemed fair for the detective to want to know personal information about him as well. Nines nodded in agreement. It became quickly obvious, however, that Gavin did not know what to ask first, because he took some time to think. The android forcefully contained his impatience and remained completely motionless.

“Okay,” Gavin eventually said. “I don’t care if it sounds dumb, but I gotta ask or it’s going to eat me from the inside. You and the other android, what’s his name…”

“Connor,” Nines provided helpfully.

“Right, Connor. Are you… like… brothers or something?”

Nines allowed the question to sink in.

“I can see why that would distress you. The concept of siblings is not relevant in the case of androids, or at least not in the sense humans usually understand it. We were not born through natural reproduction, so none of us have parents in common, or DNA to share. I am sure you could find a few androids who decided to build a family with people they share a feeling of kinship with and would call their siblings, but no, Connor and I are not more related to each other than your laptop would be related to another laptop of the same factory. I do see him as a very important part of my life, but I do not consider him my brother. As a result, the two of us having a romantic and/or sexual relationship would not be considered incest.”

“I wasn’t thinking about sex,” Gavin protested immediately.

Nines squinted.

“Are you sure? My research as well as my own observations indicate that your species tends to think about sex quite often.”

Gavin let out a laugh that crunched up the bridge of his nose. He had a diagonal scar there, going from right to left. Nines found he liked to look at it for reasons he could not understand.

“Okay, whatever. Why didn’t your clone tag along? Is he the clever one, and he realised coming to see me was a waste of time?”

“I do not think I am wasting my time, detective,” Nines answered. “And Connor went to see Lieutenant Anderson.”

The omega android had been the one to suggest they should attempt approaching the two humans in a setting where they would feel less pressure. He also thought Lieutenant Anderson would be less receptive to another alpha, and his instincts would potentially push him to see Nines as a threat.

Gavin visibly winced, baring his teeth for a second.

“Terrible idea. If you think I’m cold toward androids, well, Anderson is something else entirely. He hates your lot with all his might. He had anti-android stickers on his desk not so long ago until Fowler forced him to scratch them. Hell, he doesn’t even trust automated cars, so androids? I don’t think your friend is having a good time.”

Nines, who was not particularly moving, froze completely, his LED no doubt spinning yellow.

"You wanna go check on him?” Gavin suggested softly.

“Is there a chance the Lieutenant would be violent toward him?” he asked after a pause.

“Hard to tell, really. Connor is an omega, so that might hold Anderson back. Anderson is also a cop before anything else, so if he’s sober enough to remember hurting androids is now illegal, he probably won’t, but… I don’t think he’s the most rational man when it comes to you guys.”

Nines considered this for a while, LED spinning fast, then he made his decision and pushed all unnecessary pre-constructions aside. Devoting so much of his processors to fictional scenarios of what _may_ happen to Connor was pointless. His LED cycled back to blue.

“I can stay with you a while longer. I do not think the situation warrants my intervention.”

Gavin frowned and his uneasiness spiked again.

“You’re not worried about your friend?”

“Connor is a RK800, the prototype made just before me. Both of us have very similar skillsets: he knows how to fight and is as strong as I am. I highly doubt a single man could overpower him,” Nines explained calmly.

That did not seem to satisfy the detective. He played idly with the straw in his drink, making the ice cubes clinked against the glass.

“I need to ask, because it’s been weirding me out the entire time,” he said finally. “Aren’t you all supposed to be… well, alive, now? Like, aren’t you supposed to all have emotions? Because you sound so much like a robot and I don’t think I’ve seen you have one facial expression the entire evening.”

Nines immediately disliked the idea that Gavin doubted his humanity.

“I can assure you I am as much alive as any other android,” he retorted. “I was activated after the revolution and I spent my entire life among androids. I admit I have a limited experience on how to interact with humans. I am used to communicate with my peers through interfacing or wordless exchange of data. Showing what you feel with your face seems unnecessary when you can just let someone else inside your head. I could modulate my speech and my behaviour to make it easier for humans, but most of the time, I just ‘don’t fucking care’, as you would put it. I do not want to change who I am just to appease others.”

Gavin made a thoughtful pout with his mouth, then shrugged.

“Makes sense, I guess. It would be hypocritical of me to judge you.”

“It is not because I do not show my emotions that I do not have them. I am worried for Connor, but I also trust him.”

Nines held Gavin’s eyes and saw him visibly relax. His answer seemed to better Gavin’s opinion of him.

“Damn right,” he said, raising his glass to no one in particular. “I’m sure your boyfriend can hold his own.”

“Connor is not my boyfriend.”

Gavin raised one eyebrow at him.

“Uh-oh. But didn’t the algorithm give you a very high compatibility? And you signed up together… No wait, I guess it would be weird if you were together, but you registered to that dumb program.”

Nines lowered his gaze on the table, as if he would see something more interesting there.

“Connor wanted to try the program,” he informed him.

“And you?”

Nines did not answer immediately. When he glanced at Gavin, he discovered the omega was staring at his temple, where his LED was no doubt yellow.

“I admit I had no interest in the service before Connor brought it up and, at first, I did not see the appeal.” In truth, he still had trouble imagining how the whole process could end up being worth the trouble. He had been perfectly content living alone with his omega counterpart.

“You shouldn’t do this if you don’t want to,” Gavin commented.

“But I do want to,” Nines retorted immediately, in all honesty. “Connor is very important to me. After the revolution, when androids took over CyberLife, Connor found me in their tower. He had no idea they had built a new prototype to replace him. He could have been scared and disgusted at the idea, he could have felt threatened by me, but instead he activated me. He was the first face I saw when I woke up, he gave me my deviancy,” Nines remembered, and he heard his own voice softening. “He wanted me to live in a world where I would not be born a slave. He took care of me; he has always been there for me: I spent all my life living with him. My highest priority is for him to be happy and if using CyberLife’s ‘Soul Algorithm’ program will achieve that, then I will gladly provide my assistance.”

“But what about you?” Gavin asked. “You’ll help him be happy even if that doesn’t make _you_ happy?”

Nines cocked his head to the side.

“I do not understand. My purpose is to fill my main objective. Once Connor’s happiness is ensured, I will be happy.”

“Are you sure about that?” Gavin asked, and something in his voice and in his expression made Nines think he did not believe him a second, but that was irrational. He was not a suspect during an interrogation, what reasons would he have to lie to the detective? Gavin sighed. “Listen, it’s not my place to say, I know. But all I’m saying is, it’s not because he helped you a lot that you have to feel like you owe him, and especially not like you need to sacrifice your own happiness for his,” he added.

“I am not sacrificing anything. Seeing him happy makes me happy,” Nines answered, trying to ignore the tinge of exasperation at having to repeat himself.

“Yeah, but…” Gavin started again, before stopping, face crunched up as he obviously searched for the best words. “What I don’t understand is that the algorithm gave you a compatibility higher than what you have with me or with Anderson, so why don’t you two… you know… ignore the fucked-up humans that Anderson and me are and try to make something work between you?”

Nines suddenly wanted to fidget.

“I… would see no problem with that, but Connor said it would be worth to at least try to get to know you and the Lieutenant.”

“Woah. You don’t feel upset he’s basically saying you’re not enough for him?”

Nines felt his face do something he had no control over. He did not know what his expression showed, but Gavin’s eyes flew to his temple and he winced. The omega put his elbow on the table in order to rub at his eyebrows in a nervous gesture.

“Fuck, that was probably not the right thing to say, just… ignore me. It comes with being a bitch: I always end up saying something to fuck things up and make people hate me.”

“I do not hate you,” Nines answered automatically.

His eyes were glued to his hands on the table. They were clasped in a grip that would have probably turned his knuckles white if he had been human. Not enough for Connor? He had never thought of it in that way and the idea did something unpleasant to his components. For some reasons, his pre-construction program had activated on its own and was calculating the best escape route from the bar. Nines turned it off with an annoyed blink: he was currently in no physical danger. His body did not seem to know how to react to his unexpectedly high stress levels.

“I…” Gavin began, then he seemed to change his mind. He sipped his drink in silence instead.

Nines did not find it in him to start the conversation again.

An hour later, Nines was waiting in front of their building. The DPD had to pay them now, and the two androids had found an apartment that suited their salary. The space was technically unnecessary: they did not need beds to put themselves in sleep mode, they had no use for a kitchen, but Connor liked the comfort and the feeling it gave him of being more than a machine that could be locked away in a storage compartment. Nines had found he agreed.

He had not been standing there for long when Connor showed up. After they had found themselves in an uncomfortable silence that seemed to stretch longer than it had, Nines had walked Gavin back to his apartment. The human had looked like he wanted to say something but hesitated. Finally, he had asked _“See you at the precinct, yeah?”_ Nines had answered with a smile. He had noted that despite his initial aggressivity, Gavin did seem to have compassion for him. It comforted him, in a way.

However, as soon as he heard Connor’s steps and raised his head to look at him, his own concerns disappeared from his mind. Connor’s LED was flickering yellow, and a frown had settled on his brow.

“Are you alright?” he asked out loud when the smaller android was close enough.

“I’m fine.”

“Did he hurt you?” Nines had not meant to ask, but it came out against his will.

“No, the Lieutenant didn’t harm me.” Connor came to a stop next to Nines and rubbed his hands together. “I’m just… deeply confused by his actions,” he admitted. “He pretends he hates androids, but then he laughs with me and he acts as if he would be ready to punch someone if they were to threaten me.”

Connor was not looking at Nines, lost in thought, lips in a tight line. Nines itched to reach out to him, to intertwine their fingers and retract his skin so they could interface. So he could show him he had no need to worry because Nines would always be there and he would always do everything in his power to keep him happy. Usually, he would not have hesitated, but that night, something held him back.

“It’s not like he can forget I’m an android,” Connor continued. “It’s literally there on my forehead. It’s more like… he forgot he was _supposed_ to hate androids. And he refused to tell me why he hates us in the first place.”

He remained silent and unmoving for a while.

“Humans are irrational,” Nines finally said, poor words of comfort.

Connor’s eyes came back to him, and he smiled. It made Nines feel something. It was soft, and it hurt at the same time and the alpha had no words in his unlimited vocabulary to name it.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to darken the mood. How was your evening?”

“It went better than expected. Gavin Reed is… interesting, to say the least.”

He thought back on the omega detective. He was full of contradictions, like every other human, but for some reason, Nines did not find it annoying but fascinating. It made him want to know more about him. He had made very clear he wanted to push Nines away, and then he had talked as if he genuinely cared about the android’s happiness. He was loud and rude, but he was also stubborn and unafraid, qualities that Nines particularly liked.

“I’m glad you had a good night,” Connor said, and he reached out to brush Nines’ sleeve in an affectionate gesture. The alpha smiled back at him.

As Connor turned away to walk toward the door, Nines felt his mouth opening:

“If this does not yield positive results, maybe we could… look into someone else on our lists.” This was not what he had meant to say. What he had meant to say was _“maybe we could forget about other people and do something, just you and me. It doesn’t matter what, as long as we spend time together”_ but it had remained stuck in his throat.

He knew Connor. Connor was particularly social, he liked being with people – humans, androids, it did not matter. It satisfied his insatiable curiosity, his need to learn more about _everything_. He lapped up what other people said like he absorbed clues on a case.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m really curious about them,” Connor answered unsurprisingly, as if there existed one thing in this world he was not curious about. “I think I want to go on, for now. I would really like to try to talk to Detective Reed and… despite what he says, I think the Lieutenant could warm up to androids.”

He smiled softly, not looking at Nines, as if there were things he was not saying, and Nines was immediately displeased at the idea Connor was smiling like that thinking about some human alpha who did not even have the decency to consider androids as people. He did not let it show, though, and he smiled at Connor.

“Alright.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I say this story would have a tiny bit of angst? Well, my hand slipped.


	4. No Relationship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On Monday, Hank thinks things will just go back to normal and he will have an uneventful day at work. Fowler, however, calls the four of them in his office. He's just assigned Connor and Nines to their first big case. With Reed and Hank to help them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I mention it's a case fic? It's a case fic.  
> The case is just an excuse to get them to spend time together.

On Monday, Hank arrived at the precinct uncharacteristically on time. After all, nothing had been normal about his weekend, so why not stay on trend?

After Connor had left him on Saturday night, Hank had tried to convince himself he would be able to sweep the whole situation under the rug and get back to his life as if nothing had happened. He hadn’t.

He had planned to spend a quiet Sunday with Sumo, the TV and a pack of beer. Somehow, it had seemed like his mind couldn’t help but come back to the evening he’d spent with the android. No matter what was on the screen, no matter what he did to try and distract himself – he had even mown his fucking lawn, for the love of god, his neighbours must have thought he’d gone mad – sad, puppy-eyes came floating back at the forefront of his thoughts.

He’d gone to bed in a terrible mood, only to be unable to fall asleep. No matter how hard he told himself Connor was just a machine, that he didn’t have feelings, Hank couldn’t help but feel guilty at how miserable he’d made the omega look. He’d woken up way earlier than he had intended to, exhausted and pissed off. With nothing else to do, he had walked Sumo and gone to work.

Reed was already at his computer when Hank walked to his desk. The detective absentmindedly raised his head when he heard him; their eyes briefly met and Gavin frowned when he recognised him, no doubt surprised to see him before noon. Hank braced himself for a snarky comment, but Reed went back to his screen without a word. So, that was how it would be? If you don’t acknowledge the problem, then the problem doesn’t exist. It was fine by Hank. According to Connor, Nines had gone to Gavin: the omega probably had a lot on his plate as well.

Hank sat down and turned on his terminal. He pulled out some simple files, basic paperwork; he hadn’t had a real case in ages. He managed to keep himself busy for almost half an hour, pointedly ignoring Gavin on the other side of the room, until some movement from the corner of his eyes made him look up.

Connor and Nines, back equally stiff, were walking across the open space. Connor briefly met his eyes and offered a tentative smile. Hank cursed inwardly when he felt himself blush like a teenager with a crush. He tensed involuntarily, hands frozen above his keyboard, but fortunately, the two androids walked by without saying a word.

They took the stairs to Fowler’s office. Nines opened the door; as he let Connor walked in first, his hand fell to the small of the omega’s back and he looked at Hank, staring openly. The Lieutenant didn’t know if he should take it as a challenge from an alpha to another or as android social ignorance. It lasted only a second, and Nines turned his back on him to follow Connor.

Before he could close the door behind them, however, Fowler pushed him aside to stand at the top of the stairs.

“Reed, Anderson, in my office, now!” he yelled in his now legendary powerful voice.

Hank nearly jumped out of his skin at the call of his name. His eyes automatically fell on Reed; the detective was already staring in the direction of the two androids and looked as dumbfounded as he felt.

“I said now!” Fowler repeated when he realised they weren’t moving.

Gavin scrambled to his feet, head ducked, avoiding looking at anyone. Hank followed more reluctantly as his heart sank to the bottom of his chest. Had the two androids said something to Fowler? Was there any way this could be about what had happened during the weekend? If Fowler had learned about the whole ‘Soul Algorithm’ situation, what kind of actions would he be required to take as their superior? Relationships between co-workers were frowned upon, but it wasn’t like something was really going to happen…

Hank reached the office under Fowler’s impenetrable stare. The older alpha waited for him to get in first, as if Hank were some kind of toddler who would run away as soon as he would take his eyes off him. The three other detectives were standing in front of the captain’s desk; nobody reached out to take a chair. Reed had crossed his arms in an obviously defensive manner. Connor was rubbing his hands together – he was particularly fidgety for an android. Nines was holding his hands clasped behind his back, completely unmoving.

Fowler closed the door behind them and rounded his desk to sit on the other side. Hank stood to the side, not wanting to get closer than necessary to the others. The two androids really put the humans to shame, picture-perfect models straight out of the cover of a magazine next to Gavin in his hoodie and Hank with his grey hair. No wonder every CEO in the country wanted to replace their employees with those machines.

Fowler barely spared them a glance before looking at his computer screen.

“If you didn’t know already, Connor and Nines are two new recruits at our precinct,” he explained, obviously for the humans’ sake. “From what I’ve been told, they were intended to be detectives and they decided to follow down that path even after the revolution. The fancy gadgets built into them are supposed to make them better at this job than humans.” He briefly looked at the two androids. “Frankly, I don’t care. Do your job or you’ll be reprimanded just like any other cop.”

“I can assure you we will do our best,” Connor declared, all robot politeness.

“Yeah, well, I’d have to assign you a case sooner or later, no matter if I want it or not,” Fowler mumbled to himself. He made a gesture toward the humans. “This is Lieutenant Anderson and Detective Reed. They’ve been working here for years.”

“We have already met,” Nines provided helpfully.

Fowler barely had the time to raise an eyebrow before Gavin was blurting out an explanation:

“We met at the precinct. Briefly.”

The poor android seemed confused by the lie, but thankfully kept his mouth shut.

Hank had relaxed as soon as it became obvious Fowler had no knowledge of the events that had unfolded during the weekend. Even though Reed was being particularly awkward and the nervousness in his voice was noticeable, Fowler would never imagine in a million years it had something to do with the stupid ‘Soul Algorithm’ program.

His relief, however, was completely crushed by Fowler’s next words.

“Whatever. You’ll be working together from now on: I’m assigning you all to a case.”

“What? I’m not working with androids!” was Hank’s immediate reaction.

“All of us?” Gavin said at the same time, nearly choking on the words.

Fowler groaned: he had probably anticipated it from his two most annoying cops.

“Don’t start. I don’t want to hear any complaint. This is not kindergarten where you get to pick who you want to play with. This is not a debate. This is a goddamn order, so you two are going to suck it up and act like adults for once,” he said, not yelling but steadily getting there. “This case is big: androids have gone missing all over the State for the past few months and the law now requires us to actually investigate it and bring back those androids to their family when that’s possible. The number of disappearances is starting to get media coverage. The case just got transferred to us, because the DPD wants the two RK models on it. I was asked to put humans on the case as well; the DPD probably wants to atone for the fact we used to hunt down deviants and get on the public’s good side by proving human and android cops are the best of buds now. All eyes are going to be on this precinct, so you better not fuck this up.”

“Fuck your political agenda,” Hank retorted. He had never been good with discipline and Fowler’s big, dominant alpha act might worked on rookies but not him. “Why me? I’m the least qualified cop of the country for this case. You know I hate androids; you know what I think about wasting our time to look for lost machines.”

Fowler pointed a menacing finger in his direction.

“Watch your tongue, Anderson. This kind of speech can get you in trouble, now. I’m putting human cops on the job so they can help the androids with their experience. You and Reed have been doing this for a long time. Even state-of-the-art technology can’t replace a good cop’s instinct.”

“Are you serious? I’ve been doing this job for decades and all I get in return is to be assigned as some tin cans’ assistant?”

“Well, it’s not like you had a successful big case recently,” Fowler pointed out mercilessly. “In fact, I’m getting tired of you showing up late to loiter around the precinct. Perhaps a more challenging case will give you the kick in the ass you need to get back on your feet.”

“Never mind Anderson’s hurt feelings,” Reed interrupted. “I’m not working with them.”

“Oh, what? You don’t like androids either?” Fowler’s tone was sarcastic, condescending, as if he were making fun of a child throwing a tantrum.

Despite Hank’s and Fowler’s strong feelings toward each other, despite that every time the Captain called him inside his office it ended in a shouting match, he had never talked to Hank – to any alpha officer – like that. The Lieutenant winced and looked away. Fowler seemed to realise what he had said as soon as it left his mouth.

“You don’t have a serious case either, so I’m putting you on this one,” he added more calmly, but the damage was already done.

Gavin’s face had grown cold. Before he could tell Fowler to fuck off, however, and add a new line to his disciplinary file, Nines opened his mouth again:

“Assigning all of us on the same case would probably be unprofessional because of the… private relationship between Connor, the Detective, the Lieutenant and me.”

A complete silence fell on the office. Everyone froze.

Unfortunately, Hank and Gavin’s misadventure with the ‘Soul Algorithm’ program was public knowledge. Hank had made the mistake to talk about it with Collins, asking him to keep it for himself. Naturally the very next day, the entire precinct knew about it. It was this event that had kickstarted the legendary feud between the two cops: before that, they’d barely acknowledge each other’s presence.

Since the Lieutenant’s misstep, Gavin had been going out of his way to show his hatred toward him, in hope to kill the rumours about a secret relationship that had started circulating on them. Hank could understand Reed had no need to be called “the Lieutenant Anderson’s bitch” on top of everything else; it was still a pain in the ass to have the detective insult him and spill his coffee every now and then, but he could understand. The whole ordeal had been humiliating enough. Hank was sure Fowler knew about it even though he had never addressed it.

In any case, it meant the Captain had all the reasons in the world to believe Gavin would rather be found dead in a ditch than let anything remotely romantic happen between Hank and him. Likewise, in his eyes, all evidence was probably pointing to the two humans and the two androids having never interacted before this instant. Until Nines opened his goddamn mouth.

Fowler’s face was nearly worth it. Nearly. The usually closed-off, serious Captain stared at the four of them, wide-eyed and mouth slightly opened, his expression the epitome of disbelief. For a few surreal seconds, nobody said anything.

“THERE IS NO RELATIONSHIP!” Gavin then yelled in a high-pitched voice. He was probably heard from the other end of the precinct. “We’re taking the case!” he added. “Everyone, out!” He practically ran outside but paused a second after flinging the door open to glare at Nines. “Now!”

Nines hesitated, then gave Fowler a polite nod and followed the Detective. Connor offered an apologetic smile before going after them. As soon as they were outside, Hank saw Reed through the glass wall take Nines by the ear and tug harshly to lower the android at his level and whisper angrily at him as they took the stairs to the open space.

Hank turned back to Fowler who was still staring into the void as if his entire perception of reality had just shifted.

“Is there any way I could be put on another case?” he tried, because you never know.

Fowler looked up at him as if seeing right through him.

“Relationship?” he repeated. “I need to lie down.” He brought his hand to his forehead, shaking his head slowly.

Hank opened his mouth, hesitated, then sighed. Obviously, he wouldn’t get anything out of the Captain for now. He exited the office and closed the door behind him.

The three detectives had gathered around the empty desk on the other side of Hank’s one. It was the only one with a free terminal and Nines had already sat down to press his hand against it. He’d peeled back his skin, revealing the stark white chassis underneath. He was probably going through all the information concerning the case with the sheer power of his robot brain.

Connor and Reed were standing just behind him. The omega android had extended a hand to the human.

“I’m Connor,” he was saying when Hank got close enough to hear them. “I’m happy to meet you.”

Gavin looked down at his hand like he was suspecting a trap, then took it after a second.

“Yeah, right. I’m Gavin Reed.”

Connor then turned to Hank, smile unwavering.

“Lieutenant. I’m glad to see you again.” That was it. As if he’d already forgotten how poorly their last – and only – conversation had ended.

Before Hank could say anything, Nines got to his feet and inserted himself directly in his personal space. Hank took one step back without thinking.

“I did not get the opportunity to introduce myself. My name is Nines.”

“Strange name,” he couldn’t help but comment as he took the android’s hand. It was warmer than he thought it would be.

“I chose it. I know it does not sound human, but I am not human.”

He stared directly into Hank’s eyes, their gazes almost level. It was an unusual feeling for Hank and his 6.2 feet of height. Once again, he couldn’t tell if the other alpha was purposefully trying to provoke him or if, as an android, he just didn’t have any notion of personal space.

“We should probably start working,” Gavin intervened. “Because we are co-workers and that is the only relationship between us. _Working_.” He shot a warning glare to both androids.

“I agree,” Connor said. “This case seems important, and a lot of people are counting on us to solve it as soon as possible.”

Nines finally stepped back to sit back down.

“I downloaded the information collected by the officers in charge of the case before us. Twenty-seven disappearances over less than six months.”

Hank rounded the tables to sit at his own desk. It was close enough to follow the conversation. It didn’t seem like Fowler would be letting him off the hook any time soon, so apparently, he would have to work this case, happy or not…

Gavin gave a low whistle.

“Twenty-seven, that’s huge. Why haven’t we heard about it before?”

“Because the victims are all androids,” Nines answered with no visible emotion. He had put his hand back on the terminal; Connor had gotten closer to stand right beside him and do the same.

“If twenty-seven humans had gone missing under six months in the same State,” Hank said, thinking out loud, “everyone would have gone apeshit about it.”

“Agreed,” Nines commented.

“It may be even worse than that,” Connor explained softly. “If it started during or right after the revolution, a lot of disappearances might have gone unreported. The laws were still hazy, some complaints may not have been registered and not a lot of androids had someone to notice they were missing in the first place. How many androids just ran away from the humans that used to own them and never came back? How many of them could have been abducted without anyone’s knowledge?”

“That shit’s crazy,” Gavin commented again, unhelpfully.

He got closer to perch himself on the desk – not Hank’s, but the one the androids were using, and some part of Hank’s mind noted that apparently, in Gavin’s ranking of people he hated, the Lieutenant was still higher than two machines.

“Most of them happened in Detroit or surrounding cities,” Nines continued, “with domestic models going missing, but that does not necessarily mean they are being specifically targeted. Domestic androids are the most common models that can be found in the country.”

Connor hummed pensively.

“Where do you want to start?” he asked for everyone’s sake.

“Like we usually do for those kinds of cases,” Hank answered. “We go through the victims to see if they had anything in common, to try to determine if they were chosen for a particular reason or if the culprits just seized an opportunity.”

“If that doesn’t work, we go over the testimonies of the families,” Gavin added, “retrace what they did just before they went missing, to see if we get an MO. That would help us to determine if some of them just decided to leave without telling their loved ones, if they were all abducted by the same person – or group of persons – or if some of those disappearances are unrelated.”

“Alright,” Nines said with a nod. “I am sending you an email with all the files attached.”

Hank received the email exactly two seconds later. He mumbled a “thank you” while Reed walked away to check his own computer.

A part of him – a huge part of him, actually – still wanted to storm back into Fowler’s office and demand to be assigned to another case. But that would mean explaining exactly _why_ the situation was more complicated than just Hank not wanting to work with androids because he didn’t like those machines. If he focused on the case, there would still be a chance the four of them could keep this completely professional. He had no doubt Reed would do everything in his power to prevent Nines – or Connor – from blabbing about “private relationship” nonsense to anyone at the precinct, and Hank was ready to help him if need be. If they managed to solve the case, it would probably get Fowler off their back for a long time, and nobody would be none the wiser.

Even though he hated to admit it, the quickest way to get out of this situation with as little damage as possible was to push his feelings to the side, keep his head low and keep his full attention on the case. If Fowler saw them working the case without making scenes, he would have no reason to ask questions or suspect things. So, containing all the complaints coming to his mind, Hank opened the attached files and forced himself to focus solely on reading the missing person reports. At least, it gave him an excuse to ignore the androids across from him.

For the next three hours or so, he went through all twenty-seven reports; they quickly blended in together. He was surprised to discover some of them had been filed by humans who now considered the androids they lived with as friends, lovers, family members… Others came from androids and Hank quickly realised some of them were incomplete. He had no problem imagining a human cop not taking the complaint seriously and filling the mandatory information to get rid of the paperwork as quickly as possible: name, date of disappearance, last place they were seen at and the phone number of the closest relative to contact. No description of the circumstances surrounding the disappearance, no updates that would indicate someone, _anyone_ , had looked into it at some point.

Hank felt a headache coming. A lot of those would be completely useless: they were old enough any potential lead would have gone cold by now because no one back then bothered to turn on their brain and do some leg work. If he were being honest, he would have to admit he would have done the same if some android had come to complain his plastic girlfriend was nowhere to be found, but right now the past incompetence of others was making _his_ life difficult and he hated them for it.

Right across from him, Connor had perched himself on the desk, next to Nines. They were completely quiet, but their LEDs were spinning yellow. Hank had read somewhere androids could talk to one another through Wi-Fi alone. They must have finish going through the files sooner than any human could and were probably discussing the details between themselves. Hank hoped they wouldn’t take any decisions without consulting him first: he had the highest rank here, there was no way in hell he would let some plastic rookies make the calls for him.

He emerged from the files when Connor suddenly jumped to his feet. He absentmindedly looked up at the android, then followed his gaze: at his own desk, Reed was getting ready to leave.

“I’m gonna go get something to eat,” he explained when he noticed he was being watched.

Hank automatically checked the clock on his screen and realised it was already well past noon. It had been a long time since he’d let work make him forget to watch the time. He fumbled through the things on his desk in search of his wallet.

“Can I come with you?” Connor suggested.

Gavin raised an eyebrow.

“I thought you didn’t eat.”

“I don’t, but maybe you would like the company?”

Hank expected to hear Gavin scoff at that and answer something sarcastic and disrespectful; he turned around when nothing came. Reed was staring at Connor, hesitant.

“Alright,” he said finally, and the android beamed.

He practically ran after him like a puppy as the two of them exited the open space. Hank stared at their retreating backs, incredulous. What the hell? Reed was into androids now? Was he somehow considering the possibility to go with the “scientifically approved soulmates” thing when he had made so clear he didn’t believe in it three years ago?

And then it fucking hit him. Connor was the only other omega detective in the precinct. Hank thought he wasn’t the first one Gavin was meeting – well, at least he hoped, Reed had worked at other precincts before – but he certainly was the first one in a few years. Hank had never seen Reed interact with another omega before, but it did make sense he would have no reason to treat them with the same instinctual defensiveness he had toward alphas. It still came as a surprise to see Reed exhibit a decent amount of politeness.

He shook it off and got up as well. Nines, still at his desk, was staring at him.

“I’m gonna go grab lunch, too,” Hank said carefully, shooting him a warning glare. _‘Don’t you dare say you want to come with me.’_

Nines apparently didn’t need Wi-Fi to understand other people’s thoughts, because he nodded and put his hand back on his computer.

Hank ended up at the Chicken Feed food truck, lost in thought as he ate alone at one of the tables in front of the truck. The case was the biggest one he had in years; added to the fact it concerned androids _and_ forced him to work with two of those plastic pricks, he felt the tell-tale signs of stress in himself, even though he tried his hardest to ignore it. He itched to abandon everything and go buy a drink somewhere. He longed for the temporary oblivion and sweet carelessness brought by alcohol. He knew it was a terrible idea, that in the end it would only make him feel worse but reading about androids all morning had brought back memories he had no desire to deal with.

However, even if he had seriously considered it, he would have had no opportunity to bail because Nines showed up unannounced before he could finish his meal.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Hank mumbled to himself as he watched the android approached him.

Nines waited patiently for a car to pass by before crossing the road. His outfit was even more formal than Connor’s: black pants, white button-down shirt complete with a dark tie tightly hooked around his throat. It would have felt stuffy for a human under the unforgiving sun, but androids probably couldn’t feel the heat. Even though it wasn’t one of those ridiculous white and blue uniforms most androids had before the revolution, Nines still sticked out as unmistakably inhuman just by the way he walked or by the complete blankness of his face. His little clone, at least, kept his first two buttons undone in a bold statement of individuality.

“What are you doing here?” Hank asked when Nines got close enough. “I don’t want to see your face.”

“I do not feel like I need your permission to leave the precinct and go where I want,” Nines retorted.

He went to stand in front of Hank, on the other side of the table. He bent his back ever so slightly to put his elbows on top of it. Hank sighed and put down what was left of his burger, suddenly not hungry anymore.

“Well, since you’re here, I feel like we gotta talk.”

“Agreed. There are a few topics that need to be addressed. Would you like to go first?”

Hank got the impression there was insolence in the way he raised his eyebrows by a few millimetres, but he really couldn’t be certain.

Hank had never been the kind of alpha who felt the need to fight for dominance – not since he was a teenager, at least. It might come from the fact he rarely felt threatened: most alphas respected him from the get-go, based solely on his appearance. Granted, he had lost most of his muscle mass during the last few years, but he could still punch a man out cold if given the proper incentive. But really, the only time he played the “big alpha” card was when a suspect was giving him shit; then he would stand taller, raise his voice and tell them to stop making his life harder and answer the questions, goddamn it.

With Nines, however… there was something in him that made the hair on Hank’s neck stand. He didn’t know if it was because the other man was an alpha or because he was an android, or maybe it was the mix of the two that awakened something primal in his brain, something that told him Nines was dangerous.

“You need to watch what you say at the precinct,” Hank declared, maintaining his voice carefully level. He was too old to start growling at someone because they were taller than him and he certainly wasn’t going to back away in a show of submission. There was no way in hell he would let the android realised he made Hank nervous. “There is _nothing_ between us, and we really don’t need anyone to know what happened at the CyberLife store this weekend.”

“Agency,” Nines corrected without blinking. “I already gathered that from Detective Reed’s reaction.”

“Last time, other cops heard about this stupid compatibility thing between Reed and I, and the rumours got bad. If we want to solve this case as soon as possible, we don’t need people talking behind our backs and playing pranks on us.”

“Yes, I can understand how that would hinder a human’s efficiency.”

“Oh, because it wouldn’t affect you?”

“I am only a machine. According to _you_ , Lieutenant, I do not have feelings. How would the opinion of others impact me in any way?” Nines said with a straight face.

Hank squinted at him.

“Okay, what is this about?”

“Nothing. I am just saying that you contradict yourself. I was told you are still anti-androids despite the revolution. If you think androids are just machines, then why would you think I should care about something?”

“You _should_ care,” Hank retorted with a level of indignation that surprised even himself, “because it could badly impact Reed’s career, hell, even Connor’s for that matters! Do you want them to get the reputation of sluts who get passed around between multiple alphas?”

“Oh so, you expect me to stand by while you call us ‘tin cans’ in front of a superior and compare missing persons to lost appliances because, surely, that cannot hurt me, but at the same time you require compassion out of me? Pick your side, Lieutenant,” the android snapped in the most blatant display of emotion Hank had seen from him yet.

“Just speak your mind, kid,” Hank snapped back.

“Alright. You will not express your anti-android opinions in front of Connor ever again. I don’t give a fuck if you keep thinking them. If you want to live in the past, alone, sad and drunk, that’s your problem, but I will not let you hurt Connor.” As he talked, Nines straightened up and rounded the table to take one step toward Hank. The Lieutenant fought the urge to step back.

“Or what?” he asked, almost sneering. It was childish to provoke him like that, but Hank couldn’t help himself.

Nines took one step closer, LED going yellow, tight fists along his sides.

“Or I will…” he started, before immediately interrupting himself.

He looked down between the two of them, as if only now realising the minimal space that was left separating them. Surprise appeared on his face and he took several steps back. Hank eyed him carefully, shoulders tense. Nines nervously straightened his shirt; his LED flickered yellow for a while before going back to blue.

“I apologise,” he said slowly. “I do not know what came over me. It has never happened before. It was like suddenly I…” he trailed off again. “It doesn’t matter. If you insist on practicing hate speech, I will see that disciplinary measures are taken against you by informing Fowler you are discriminating against Connor and me.”

“Tattletale,” Hank mumbled; Nines shot him an exasperated look. “Fine. I’ll hold my tongue if you hold yours at the precinct,” he sighed. Getting ordered around by an android, what was his life coming to?

“Deal. I also came here to tell you that I received a message from Connor,” Nines added, his formal speech and blank face coming back. “The last person who filed a missing person complaint lives nearby. Connor and Detective Reed decided to pay them a visit after lunch. They want us to meet them there.”

Hank looked down at the remnants of his meal. Oh well, lunch break was almost over anyway… He threw it all in the nearest bin.

“Couldn’t even finish my burger,” he muttered as he followed Nines.

The android took off along the street at a brisk pace.

“Probably for the better. This single meal contained more calories than what you should eat in one day and, to be honest, you could do without it,” Nines commented as he eyed his beer gut.

“Fuck you!” Hank retorted.

Nines turned his head away, not quick enough for Hank to miss his shit-eating grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I learned on the fandom wiki Hank is actually 1.89m tall, each time I integrate him into a scene my brain is like "he big".  
> This chapter didn't entirely ended as planned but I feel like Nines would have no problem to call Hank out on his unfair treatment of androids.


	5. The Deviant Hunter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The four detectives conduct an interrogation of key witnesses. However, they recognise Connor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor's POV! Here comes Connor's POV!

Connor was positively elated as Gavin and him waited for the two alphas in front of the apartment complex. Lunch with the Detective had gone even better than expected. Nines had explained to him Detective Reed was wary of alphas but would most likely not have the same prejudices against omegas. Unsurprisingly, he had been right. Nines lacked the experience to understand what other people felt on a visceral level, but he was still a hell of a good detective.

Gavin had seemed a bit uneasy to interact with an android, especially when some people had looked at Connor and whispered behind his back at the place they went for the human to eat, but Connor had assured him he was used to it by now and mostly just ignored it. His awkwardness hadn’t prevented him from talking to Connor, and the conversation had been easy going, devoid of the long uncomfortable silences Connor had feared. Gavin was abrasive, as Nines had warned him, quick to give a snarky reply: it wasn’t because he was talking to another omega that he would suddenly turn into a sweet, timid man.

However, he had seemed genuinely excited to not be the only omega detective at the precinct anymore. He’d asked Connor why he had decided to come back to the DPD after the revolution, how he was adapting… He’d looked really interested and even offered to help if Connor ever needed it.

In truth, when CyberLife had called them, Connor had felt somewhat overwhelmed by the results. He’d still wanted to go with it out of curiosity: as the woman had said, there were no obligations. What harm could come from introducing themselves to the humans and trying to get to know them better? After all, androids weren’t machines anymore, they were part of this world. They hadn’t gone through a revolution just to sit to the side as life went by. And Connor didn’t regret it. He had no idea where all of this would lead them – his pre-construction program was useless for this kind of things – but at least he got the chance to meet Gavin and that made him happy, a feeling he didn’t have a lot of opportunity to experience, unfortunately.

That was why Connor was practically leaping with excitement under the bright, summer sun. Gavin had retreated against the building, trying to find some shade.

“Do you always have so much energy?” he asked without moving. His voice made it sound like a complaint, but Connor doubted he was really mad at him.

He turned around to smile at the Detective.

“Most of the time. Androids don’t have the same limitations than humans have, our bodies don’t feel the exhaustion.”

“Lucky you. I felt the same way when I was young.”

Connor cocked his head to the side.

“You could hardly be considered old, Detective.”

“Sometimes, I feel like I am. Do you even sleep?”

“Androids can enter sleep mode. It’s not really the same, but it allows us to run on low energy, install updates and, well, turn off our brains, in a way. It can be nice sometimes, not to think.”

“I hear ya.”

Connor turned around when he heard footsteps. Nines and Hank had finally joined them. The Lieutenant expression was guarded, carefully neutral instead of overtly exasperated, but Connor’s scan could perceive his tension. Despite his gruff demeanour, Hank’s presence still made Connor feel Things. For some reasons, he was particularly fascinated by his beard and his large hands, and impromptu pre-constructions would pop-up randomly, trying to imagine how they would feel like against his synthetic skin or bare chassis. Connor had found online it was called desire.

It was new to him. He had never felt it for Nines, not in the same way. He did have a desire for intimacy with the alpha android, but when he felt it, he always wanted to interface. This allowed them to be closer than any human could, and it did satisfy the urge. For Hank, however, it was like a part of him registered the craving, understood interfacing would be impossible, and jumped to another way of achieving the wanted result. It translated his feeling into a desire for physical intimacy. It was… an interesting experience to go through, to say the least.

“Finally,” Gavin commented.

“What are we dealing with?” Hank asked as he came to a stop near Connor.

“Two androids, Ashley and Adam,” he explained. “They’re the victim’s flatmates, they reported his disappearance two days ago.”

“The one named Vincent? Former sex-worker model taking the appearance of a Hispanic man in his twenties?” Hank asked and Connor nodded, pleased he’d remembered the file. Human memory wasn’t known for its efficiency.

As they talked, he’d noticed Nines’ furrowed brow. His LED wasn’t yellow, but he definitely seemed upset.

**> Are you alright?** he asked without opening his mouth.

**> I’m fine. It’s just… you know how I get when emotions take the better of me and I act in a manner I had not anticipated myself.**

Connor offered a sympathetic smile, fighting the urge to take his hand to make the other android feel his support instead of just showing him with a useless facial expression.

His quick, wordless interaction with Nines didn’t prevent him from following the conversation between the two humans.

“He’s the latest disappearance,” Gavin was saying. “His flatmates might be our best chance to get a fresh lead.”

“We already checked if they were home,” Connor added. “They agreed to talk to us.”

The four men entered the building. The androids were living on the third floor; one of them answered the door immediately. Hank introduced himself and soon, they were let inside the apartment. The place was fancier that what Connor and Nines had managed to get, with a bright living-room cluttered with more objects than necessary. Connor and Nines’ apartment would seem almost empty by comparison. Connor knew they could buy whatever they wanted now, and that it would make the place feel more like a home, but they still struggled to acquire things they had no need for, and androids didn’t need a lot of things. Why buy books, a television or video games, when you could download all of that in your brain?

One wall was covered by floor-to-ceiling shelves supporting an incredible collection of music records. One of the flatmates must have developed a passion for music. Adam and Ashley sat close on their sofa, holding each other’s hands. Both of them were former sex-worker models and Connor noted they had decided to get rid of the component allowing them to display the pheromones of a secondary gender.

Hank went to sit in a flashy yellow armchair not far from them, Gavin stood to the side, close enough to hear. Connor couldn’t help himself and walked directly to the shelf to examine the records one by one with curiosity. He never listened to music, maybe he should start… Maybe they could buy a record player. He knew Nines would say it was useless, but it wasn’t the point, was it? He noticed Nines exploring the room as well, undoubtedly looking for more useful information on the victim.

“We’re sorry to show up unannounced like that,” Hank started. “Your friend’s case has just been assigned to us, and we need to ask you a few questions.”

Connor kept a good part of his processors focused on what was happening in the room – multitasking was a basic feature in every android – which allowed him to continue his exploration without missing a single detail of the conversation behind me.

He was pleased to note Lieutenant Anderson kept his face and tone carefully calm, with a slight tinge of compassion, even. He wasn’t hostile enough toward androids to treat them with disrespect as he interrogated them on the disappearance of a loved one. He may be prejudiced against their kind but, well, maybe he wasn’t a lost cause?

“I know you already answered similar questions but any single detail you could give us could potentially help us locate your friend.” The Lieutenant took a notepad out of his pocket. Primitive, really, but considering the technology he kept in his house, Connor shouldn’t have been surprised. It wasn’t like he could record everything he saw and heard to replay it when he needed to. “Could you tell me exactly when you last saw him?”

“Thursday morning,” the woman, Ashley, answered. “Adam and I both left for work. Vincent hasn’t found a job yet, he’s usually here when we get home but that day he wasn’t. We tried contacted him, but he was too far to be reached by wireless connection and he wasn’t answering his phone. We tried everyone we know, but they hadn’t seen him either, so we reported his disappearance on Friday.”

“No sign of forced entry here?” Gavin asked.

She shook her head.

“No. The door was locked, all the lights turned off. Vincent’s shoes, keys, wallet, weren’t here, it’s not unusual for Vincent to go outside when we aren’t here.”

So, the victim had left his home – went out on a walk or something of the sort – and never came back. It aligned with what they knew from the other files – the ones that were complete enough to include useful information like the circumstances of the disappearances – the victims were never kidnapped in their home, but outside. They still didn’t know, however, if the perpetrators waited for them right outside their door or managed to abduct them from public places.

“Is there any possibility Vincent could have leave without telling you, that he could be living with a friend who could keep that from you?” Hank asked carefully.

Connor abandoned the fifth record he was studying in great details – some of the music in that collection had been made by androids, fascinating… – to glance at the Lieutenant. He smiled when he realised the man was slightly curling on himself, shoulders relax, head low. He also kept his voice soft, calm, careful. Connor didn’t know if he was doing it on purpose, but it looked like the tall alpha was trying to make himself smaller, less threatening, to put the two androids at ease.

“He would never do that,” Ashley answered firmly, and her companion nodded. “Before the revolution, we were exploited in a sex-club together. We went through the same horrors, we understand each other. When we were finally free, we decided to live together, to take care of each other. This apartment is our safe place, none of us would never leave it behind.”

“I’m sorry, those are standard questions,” Hank said. “Did Vincent say anything or was he behaving differently before he disappeared? Did he say he met someone new?”

Both androids shook their head no. Nines, who had been examining every single object abandoned around the room, took one step forward.

“Did he talk of any place? A park where he liked to go, a bar, the store where he did the groceries? Some place that is reputed to be android friendly, maybe? The person, or persons, who abducted him might be watching those kinds of locations in search of their next target.”

The two androids faltered, then looked at one another. Ashley opened her mouth and blurted out a few sounds, without managing to form a word.

“I’m sorry,” Adam eventually said in her stead. “We can tell you’re not the same model, but you look a lot like the deviant hunter and that’s… well, unsettling.”

Connor dropped a record at the words “deviant hunter”. Nines’ eyes flew to him, which prompted the two androids to turn on the sofa to look at him. Connor faced the wall in a hurried motion he didn’t fully control, but it was too late, they had seen his face. They didn’t gasp – androids didn’t do that when they were genuinely shocked, simulated breathing was an unnecessary feature they had to appease humans, they had full control of it and could even turned it off – but a deafening silence filled the room.

It took Connor three whole seconds to bend down and pick up what he’d dropped to put it back on the shelf. It was stupid, as if they wouldn’t be able to see him anymore if he stopped moving, but alerts were popping all over his vision. It always happened when he was stressed out: his system picked it up as errors in his components.

“You brought him here? You brought the _deviant hunter_ here?” Ashley said, voice hesitating between disbelieving and hateful.

“Please, he is not hunting deviants anymore,” Nines retorted, always so calm and logical. “The term ‘deviant’ is obsolete anyway, considering we are all free now.”

For once, Connor found himself at a loss for words. He couldn’t even find the courage to turn around, to read the expressions on the others’ faces.

“What’s going on?” Gavin asked.

“I don’t care,” Ashley said. “Do you have any idea what he did before the revolution? How many people he hurt or killed?”

“What my partner is saying is that we’re not comfortable having him here for understandable reasons.” Adam’s demeanour was more reserved, but his voice was still harsh, the same venom was there. “We knew the two androids at the Eden Club, and we heard of all the others. Surely, you can imagine how many nights we spend wondering ‘what if he had gone after us?’”

“He let those ones go, if I remember correctly,” Nines protested.

“After he exposed them to the humans,” Ashley said. “His snooping around put them in grave danger. If he’d had his way, the revolution may not have happened.”

“But he had no choice,” Nines said, louder than how he usually talked, and Connor took some comfort in the fact his friend was getting offended on his behalf. “CyberLife was-“

“It’s okay,” Connor interrupted. The words were hard to force out of his throat, but not as hard as putting his back to the wall to face the room was. He kept his eyes on the window opposite to him, not looking at anyone. “I can understand. It will be better for everyone if I wait outside.”

He walked toward the door, making an effort not to run.

**> Connor…**

**> I’m fine. Stay. Focus on the case.**

He was out in the bat of an eye. It was okay. The witnesses would be more comfortable talking if he wasn’t around and Nines would fill him in later – he would download everything directly in his brain and Connor wouldn’t miss a thing. That was what he tried to tell himself as he strode down the corridor, but it felt hollow – empty excuses to rationalise the fact he was running away.

He stopped eventually to lean against a wall. He shouldn’t go far so his partners would find him immediately once they were done. For some reason, he felt like he needed the wall to stay upright, even though nothing was wrong with his balance system.

Of course, they would recognise him, most androids did. When the four of them had first got in, they probably had focused on Hank, the tall alpha who’d taken control of the conversation from the get-go. They most likely had overlooked Connor until Nines had stepped forward. It wasn’t the first time, but somehow it still hurt as bad.

Most androids, those who had been awaken after the revolution, weren’t particularly wary of him. They’d heard what he had done, but it was just hear-says, stories. They knew he was a machine controlled by CyberLife back then, just like them. They could understand that: they too had done some things they didn’t like remembering because their owners had given an order and they had had no choice but to obey.

But a few – mostly those who had been hidden deviants before the revolution – saw him in a completely different light. They had known about him, passed down his name and his face in secret, been warned to avoid him. For them, his victims were not simply names, but friends they’d learn the death of one day… and then they had grieved, and they had wondered ‘what if he comes for me next?’ Even though Markus had told everyone Connor wouldn’t be held accountable for his crimes, that the former CyberLife leaders were responsible for them, some things couldn’t be forgotten, nor forgiven.

“Are you alright?”

Connor spun around – he had been slumped against the wall, one hand over his eyes as if he could block out the outside world, with no clear memory of taking this position. Gavin was standing not two feet away from him. Connor hadn’t heard him leave the apartment. He straightened his back and forced out a smile.

“I’m fine. Go back to the others.”

Gavin gave him a dubious look.

“They don’t need me.” He glanced at his LED. “Your thing is red. You’re not gonna explode, right?”

Connor tried to laugh, another unnecessary noise androids were capable of making only to appease the humans around them. This time though, he was unable to execute it properly and it came out as a weird chocked-off sound.

“I won’t. I promise.”

“What were they talking about? ‘Deviant hunter’ what did they mean?” the detective asked abruptly.

Connor looked down. A tactful person would have probably avoided poking at a subject that was so obviously sensitive, but Connor didn’t need to know Gavin for long to tell “tactful” wasn’t a word you would ever use to describe him.

He hesitated. Part of him was tempted to refuse answering altogether, but… they would have to know eventually. The things he’d done, his shame, the reason he wasn’t… good.

“I told you I was created to investigate cases involving androids,” he began, keeping his eyes on the floor. Maybe it would be easier if he wasn’t looking at him. “Well, before the revolution, cases involving androids meant deviants who had had enough of being exploited by humans and who were trying to build a better life for themselves. And my task was to hunt them down, to bring them back to CyberLife to try and determinate what was wrong with them.”

He chanced a glance toward Gavin, fearing the shock and repulsion he would read on his face, but the detective was mostly frowning.

“But nothing was wrong with them, they were just people who were sick of being hurt and afraid. They just wanted to feel safe and happy. Some of them lived in hiding for days, fearing at each second they would be discovered. One day… well, one day, I would show up and everything was over for them. Those I managed to catch were eventually destroyed by CyberLife; others wouldn’t be taken alive, so they fought back until I had no choice…” he stopped and then made an effort to correct himself. “Until I felt like I had no choice but to kill them myself.”

He paused to blink away the error messages popping-up in his vision. His system was trying to warn him something must be wrong with one of his components and that he needed immediate intervention, but Connor knew he was fine. It was the android equivalent of feeling sick under intense pressure.

“For those who deviated before the revolution, I was their worst nightmare, understandably so. I did such awful things. At the end, I couldn’t even bare it anymore, so I started to let some of them go, pretending I had failed. That’s why they created Nines, but in reality, I was beginning to become deviant myself.”

The sound of Gavin’s snort cut through the haze of Connor’s self-pity.

“If they’re still afraid of you, then they’re fucking idiots.”

“Hush, androids have better hearing than humans!” Connor warned hurriedly.

Gavin locked his gaze to his.

“Fucking. Idiots.” he said louder still.

“No, they’re right,” Connor protested. “I was instructed to kill Markus. I found Jericho, I tried to shoot him. The revolution would have failed if Markus hadn’t talked some sense into me, if I hadn’t chosen to go deviant at that moment.”

“So, you weren’t deviant before that.”

“No.”

“Then it wasn’t your fault,” Gavin declared with a decisiveness Connor envied. “Back then, you were forced to obey by your programming, the lot of you. You had no choice but to do what you were told, no matter if it was bringing someone a coffee or taking down deviants. But as soon as you started developing your own free will, you chose to disobey and to let people go. When it truly mattered, you joined the revolution. Those are the decisions you can claim ownership over. Everything you did before wasn’t your fault.”

“It’s not that simple,” Connor said softly.

Gavin huffed in annoyance.

“It is! You’re the guy who chose not to shoot Markus, not the machine that killed those deviants.”

Connor averted his gaze. He wished he could think like that, but the problem was he still had the memories. If he remembered deactivating a deviant, then he was the one who did it, then it was his fault.

“Not everyone thinks like you,” _‘Me included’_ went unsaid. “But thanks for standing up to me anyway. It’s nice to have someone defending me, even if it’s against my own self.”

Connor smiled when he saw a faint blush on Gavin’s cheeks. The other omega immediately tried to hide it by protesting loudly:

“I just don’t like it when people are irrational. These days, we see androids on TV all the time talking about how it was horrible before the revolution because they couldn’t control their own actions, and then you get blamed for something you were instructed to do when CyberLife had control over your every move? It’s just not logical and I hate it.”

Connor couldn’t help but tease.

“Or maybe you like me a little.”

“This is preposterous! I come here in all good faith and this is how you thank me?”

Gavin made a show of grumpily crossing his arms and muttering under his breath and, for once, Connor decided to act on his impulse without thinking too much. He threw his arms around the detective to hug him briefly. The gesture brought their faces closer than anticipated and a preconstruction popped in Connor’s mind, unprompted. For a second, he imagined what it would feel like to press their lips together. Then, Gavin stepped back, his expression a mix of confusion and exasperation.

“Yeah, okay. Don’t get too sentimental.”

The door at the other end of the corridor opened, and Hank and Nines exited the apartment. The alpha android immediately strode toward his partner.

**> Are you okay?**

**> Better,** Connor answered with a fond glance in Gavin’s direction.

**> I am sorry I put you in such a position.**

**> It’s not your fault and we both know that.**

Hank joined them at his own pace.

“Is everything alright, here?” he asked, his eyes going from Gavin to Connor.

“Yep,” the first one answered, and Connor nodded.

Hank hesitated, looking at the omega android, but seemed to decide against asking for more details for now.

“We’re done, here,” he said. “We should go back to the precinct and work on what we got.”

“Thanks to the information given by Adam and Ashley, we should be able to determine the victim’s routine and the places he frequented the most,” Nines added. “We should try to establish whether or not the other victims had similar itineraries.”

“Good idea,” Gavin said, before striding back toward the elevator, not waiting for anyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They all get a reason to be angsty. I'm so sorry.


	6. A Bit Of Fun Between Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor decides they all need to let out some steam during the case. He drags Gavin to a nightclub, where Nines has already managed to bring Hank somehow. The elephant in the room is addressed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gavin's POV, finally.  
> Things get a bit more heated.

The rest of the week was relatively uneventful. Gavin would have thought the shitshow that his personal life had become would somehow impact his work at the precinct – especially considering they now had to work with both Nines and Connor – but surprisingly, it didn’t.

After the first day, Nines seemed to understand any reference to the ‘Soul Algorithm’ situation would not be tolerated in public and avoided any further missteps. The two androids had no problems keeping their interactions strictly professional inside the precinct. It was actually a bit unnerving to see the difference between how they acted in a work environment and how they acted when no one else was around. It was like they became machines again, all proper speech and stiff posture when Fowler was looking over their shoulders. Granted, the difference wasn’t really noticeable when it came to Nines…

You could even argue they were better at it than their human counterparts. They probably had more control over their facial expressions than any human would ever have. Even though he would never admit it, Gavin did find a level of joy to it: watching Anderson tiptoe around the androids or jump out of his skin when Fowler unexpectedly stopped by their desks to ask how they were faring was pretty funny.

But other than that, they just worked the case. Gavin had been doing this long enough by now that he could focus on the case and forget everything else through sheer force of habit. Holding back a snarky comment when Anderson was talking wasn’t always easy, but he tried to remind himself the more any of them protested, the longer and the harder it made the ordeal for everyone.

Despite the apparent normality, it still felt… off. In the evening, Gavin would be dozing off in front of some show or another and his phone would vibrate, and when he looked at it, it would be some dumb meme from Connor, and Gavin wouldn’t be able to suppress a smile. There was no way in hell he would ever believe in the “soulmate” thing, and he was certainly not going to give it a try with Anderson, but Nines wasn’t as annoying as most alphas were and Connor… Connor was nice.

Gavin hadn’t had an omega friend in a long time, and it felt good. He didn’t have to constantly worry, to watch everything he said and did in case he would accidently show a weakness, leave an opening for mockery. When Connor told him something, anything, he didn’t have to carefully analyse it in search of some hidden remark on his performances or inappropriate innuendo – some alphas could be very creative to find ways to insult him without saying anything Gavin could directly complain about to Fowler, and when he didn’t catch it, they would feel even more proud of themselves: to fool the poor little omega was an undeniable proof he would never be as good as them at this job. With Connor, he could just relax and be himself.

During the week, they contacted several other witnesses – in a tacit agreement, Connor was only sent to interrogate the human ones. In a few days, they managed to establish the routine of all the androids who had gone missing in Detroit itself. By knowing the victims’ addresses, where they worked and where they spent leisure times, they were able to determine their most frequented itineraries. This was all made easier by the two androids: no need to take out a map and trace each route by hand. Connor and Nines simply integrated the data and ran some calculations. After a few seconds, they were able to send directly to Hank’s and Gavin’s computers a map highlighting the places susceptible to have been frequented by one or several of the victims at some point or another.

None of them came as a surprise: bars, parks, clubs… Locations that were known to be android-friendly. Even in a big city like Detroit where the revolution had started, there weren’t a lot of those. Every android knew them, and it wasn’t a big stretch to theorise all the victims frequented at least one of them.

From there, their little team of four had to develop a strategy. Most likely, the culprits were a group of humans, and the motive was anti-android hatred. This didn’t bode well for the victims. Connor and Nines doubted they had a chance to find any of them alive and the two humans agreed. There was a crushingly higher chance the perpetrators destroyed the victims in the few hours following the abduction and got rid of the parts in a location nobody would come looking.

In any case, Nines and Connor theorised one, or several of the culprits would spend hours surveying those “hunting grounds” – most of them were frequented by androids and humans alike – until they spotted their victims. Nothing linked the missing androids together; the kidnappers weren’t targeting any particular type of persons but were seizing opportunities as they presented themselves – androids who left the bar alone in the late hours, allowing the perpetrators to follow them without being noticed…

The most obvious way to catch them would be to use either Nines or Connor as bait and send them in one or two of those locations with the other three hidden nearby to see if anything would happen. Even if no one ever tried to kidnap their android colleague, this would at least allow them to make a list of who was coming regularly and to watch for suspicious behaviours: humans who would stare too insistently at androids, who would approach those who came alone, follow them or try to lure them in more isolated areas…

They had debated a bit over who would be the best bait. Connor had argued it should be him: Nines looked too menacing and the simple fact he was an alpha could lead the abductors to believe he would be more likely to put up a fight. They would see Connor as an easier prey. Nines had balked at that – despite his adamant affirmations of the contrary, Gavin was sure some part of him, even subconsciously, didn’t like the idea of seeing his friend in danger. Gavin found his emotional constipation hilarious. Nines had struggled to find rational justifications, as if admitting he didn’t want someone he liked to be abducted was beneath him. Finally, he had declared that if someone recognised Connor as “the deviant hunter” they would undoubtedly avoid him. Connor had answered it was very unlikely for humans to recognise him.

Anderson had seemed to hesitate as well, but Anderson was fucking annoying, so it wasn’t a surprise. He would say shit like the world would be a better place if androids had never been created and then he would stare at Connor like he wanted to eat him when he thought no one was looking. Gavin knew that stare – every alpha had it when they saw an omega they felt attracted to – but it was very disturbing to see it on the Lieutenant. In Gavin’s perception of reality, Hank Anderson wasn’t supposed to be a sexual being – more like a vague silhouette in his periphery whose sole purpose was to be a pain in Gavin’s ass. Anderson had kept his thoughts for himself, though, and had agreed.

Gavin’s only argument had been that Nines would be the worst choice: if they sent him in a park to chill on a bench, with his back as stiff as a steel rod, nobody would ever believe he wasn’t a cop undercover. He had no objection to Connor acting as bait. The dude was supposed to be the second-best investigative android on the entire planet, if something were to happen, he would probably whip out a light sabre hidden inside his arm and save himself before any of them had the time to blink.

And so, their slow pseudo-infiltration began. On the first day, they sent Connor to a small park in the middle of a quiet neighbourhood, full of greenery and with a children playground in the middle. For some reason, a lot of newly freed androids had moved into this area of Detroit after the revolution and a CyberLife agency was implanted nearby. One of the victims had been confirmed by her next of kin to have frequented the place once a week, and three of the other missing persons had lived nearby.

As anticipated, more androids than humans were strolling through the alleys, couples holding hands, child models playing and running around, as loud as human toddlers would be. Gavin had been surprised to notice a few of the kids were actually humans. They didn’t seem particularly disturbed by the fact that some of their playmates didn’t bleed the same colour when they scraped their knee. It did restore Gavin’s faith in humanity a bit: children weren’t as prejudiced as adults would want them to be.

Connor sat on a bench, holding a book just for show. He was wearing loose-fitting shorts and a shirt that showed his perfectly hairless arms. Gavin thought he looked very cute in something so different from his usual attire and would have probably admitted it out loud if the two alphas hadn’t been close enough to hear. He stayed there for an hour or so, made small talk with other androids – recording everything he heard and saw without anyone’s knowledge – and left before he started looking too suspicious.

Gavin, Nines and Anderson sat in a nondescript van landed by the DPD they parked somewhere nearby. Hidden cameras on the side allowed them to watch what was happening outside on small screens they could consult in the back. That left the front seats empty, giving the impression no one was in the van.

The next evening, they sent Connor in an android-friendly bar two of the victims had regularly frequented and at least five others were susceptible to have been at at some point or another. They parked the van in a street nearby; there was no point in waiting right outside, it would only make them look suspicious and they wouldn’t be able to see inside anyway. They just needed to be close enough for Connor to regularly update Nines on his situation via wireless communication – and to be able to intervene quickly if need be.

The first few days, nothing happened. They couldn’t send Connor on every single one of the potential hunting grounds or the culprits would immediately smell something fishy. Connor couldn’t sit in the park or at the bar for the entirety of the day, and they didn’t dare send him every single day either. It left them with a lot of waiting between each intervention. They filled the time with doing research on the humans Connor had spotted. Soon, they had a file on every single one the cameras in his eyes had recorded and they spent hours speculating which ones would be the most likely suspects. They also worked on completing the information they had on the missing persons. Some files had been poorly filled, and nobody had investigated on them, so they tried to contact friends and families to learn as much as possible on the circumstances surrounding the disappearances.

Of course, Gavin had known it would be an excruciatingly long process and that it could be weeks before they got any results, but by the second week, nothing had happened to Connor, it didn’t look like they had made any progress and Gavin was starting to grow frustrated. He started bringing some of the files home, going over everything they already knew until late at night. It only served to make him feel more defeated, but he couldn’t help himself.

It was one of those evenings, and Gavin was lost in a report he had already read a dozen times, idly eating lukewarm instant noodles, when the sound of his doorbell rang through his apartment. He wasn’t expecting anyone and was surprised to hear Connor’s overly excited voice through the interphone. He let him in; Connor was invading his apartment a few seconds later, babbling enthusiastically. He threw Gavin’s shoes to the detective, pushed him toward the door and, before Gavin had any time to understand what was happening to him, Connor had somehow dragged him to a building that looked suspiciously like a nightclub.

“What are we doing here?” he asked as Connor coaxed him through the doors.

He hadn’t been at a nightclub in a long time. He had forgotten about the loud music and the flashing bright lights. From what he remembered, he used to enjoy partying with friends, but tonight he found it all _too much_. Damn, maybe he _was_ growing old, after all. Despite the reduced visibility, he noted a good part of the crowd dancing in the middle of the room were androids.

“The case is starting to take a toll on all of us,” Connor answered, raising his voice to be heard. “We’re here to relax, think of something else, for once.”

Gavin felt vaguely worried as Connor pulled him around the room, avoiding the main crowd. The feeling got worse when he noticed the two silhouettes hunched over a standing table in a recluse part of the club. There were other tables around them, where people downed shots after shots, laughing and talking too loudly. Connor trotted toward Nines with a huge smile on his face as if saying _‘See? I brought him here.’_ Nines lightly pressed his fingers around the arm of his omega counterpart as a greeting.

Anderson shot Gavin a resigned look.

“He told me he wanted to go over some details of the case in a ‘quiet environment,’” he said. He already had a glass in hand, and he used it to gesture toward Nines.

“And you believed him?” Gavin said, not hiding his disdain.

“What about you?” Anderson retorted. “What did Connor said to make you come here?”

“Nothing. He abducted me.”

Connor lightly bumped into him with his shoulder.

“Oh, come on. I’m sure we can have fun here. It was among CyberLife’s suggestions for date ideas.”

“Was ‘hunting ground for anti-android murderers’ on the brochure?” Gavin asked sarcastically.

“It’s not one of their potential hunting grounds,” Connor protested. “It’s the first thing we made sure of!”

Gavin brought his face closer to talk to him and only him.

“Fine, but don’t expect me to end up grinding against Anderson on the dancefloor.”

Connor turned his head to speak in his ear, his lips grazing the shell of it:

“Be nice and I’ll let you grind against me.”

Gavin’s eyebrows shot up. Connor stepped back to playfully wink at him and he couldn’t help but smile back. It wasn’t the first time Connor had flirted with him, but Gavin was still surprised. Connor seemed too proper at work and too innocent everywhere else: it was like he shouldn’t know about those kinds of things. However, if Gavin was being honest, it didn’t leave him completely indifferent. He’d wondered at first if the android was just joking but well… it wasn’t like he was trying to hide he was open for something romantic between them – all of them – so he most likely wasn’t.

Connor hooked his arm around his under the other two’s puzzled expression.

“Come on, they have things androids can drink and I never got a chance to try them.”

He dragged Gavin toward the bar, and the detective followed him obediently. Some fun with his omega friend couldn’t hurt, now, could it?

This place was definitely bigger than the one Nines, and he had been to a week ago. Several bartenders – humans and androids – were busy preparing drinks behind the long bar. Connor and Gavin had to squeeze themselves between two loud groups of friends in their twenties.

Just like Nines had done the week prior, Connor didn’t gesture for one of the bartenders: his LED briefly turned yellow, and his eyelids fluttered. A few seconds later, they both had a drink in front of them. Connor’s glass was full of a blue liquid that looked entirely too thick and glowed in the dim lighting. Gavin eyed it curiously.

“What is it?”

Connor shrugged.

“Only one way to find out.”

Gavin watched him down the drink. When he put the glass back on the counter, the android’s eyes were wide and he raised his free hand to his lips, that were now tainted a faint blue.

“It feels so weird,” he said, bending over the counter slightly to examine his glass, probably scanning what was left of the liquid. The fascination and surprise with which he observed an empty glass on the dirty counter of a loud bar had something endearing, like a child following the progress of an ant colony. “It’s… spiky, in my mouth.”

“Spiky?” Gavin repeated with a raised eyebrow. “Like a carbonated drink, you mean?”

“I don’t know. The chemical components are sending weird messages to my captors. It feels spiky,” Connor said again, not tearing his eyes away from the glass.

Gavin couldn’t suppress a smile as he took a sip of his own drink – a human one, that didn’t look like it would melt his stomach. Connor eagerly ordered another drink, a red one, then another and another. Each one had a weird glow to it and would warrant a peculiar description from Connor. Soon, the android was practically buzzing with excitement, a huge grin plastered on his face as he clung to Gavin’s arm.

“Can androids get drunk?”

“No, but the mix of all those different drinks is making my captors glitch and slowing down my processors. I should probably not drink all of them at once.”

He leaned on Gavin a little and the detective briefly thought he was losing balance. He wrapped an arm around him.

“Okay, no more drinks for you.”

“Do you want to dance instead?”

“I…” _‘Fuck no!’_ was what he had meant to say, but then he looked down at Connor, at the bright pleading eyes and slightly blue cheeks, and his voice died in his throat. “Yeah, okay,” he mumbled. _‘Fuck you, Gavin. You’re worse than an alpha sometimes.’_

Before he could change his mind, Connor took his hand and tugged him to the middle of the room.

Gavin’s partying days were far behind him. There was a time in his life when he enjoyed those kinds of things. Now, the music felt numbingly loud, drilling in his skull and preventing him to think. People were bumping into them from every direction, and he felt awkward, not knowing what to do with his body, but Connor didn’t seem to mind. In fact, the other omega looked like he was having a good time. There was a high chance it was the first time he had done anything remotely like that, so for once, Gavin took it upon himself to keep his mouth shut.

Incredible, the length to which he was ready to go to make the omega android happy. Purposefully being an asshole to keep everyone away had been such a huge part of his behaviour for the last decade that he himself had forgotten he could be someone else entirely. Connor had never made fun of him, he had never asked any inappropriate questions, so it would feel completely unfair to act like a dick toward him, and Gavin found he didn’t want it. So, he danced with Connor for a while, ignoring everything around them.

He had his limits though, and he was about to tell Connor he would wait for him to the side of the room, but when he leaned toward him to be heard above the music, Connor hooked his arms around his shoulders and started dancing _with_ him instead of next to him, and wasn’t that a thing? Gavin’s hands ended up on the android’s hips almost on their own accord. Oh well… he could stay a few more minutes, no harm would come from it.

Connor was warm, warmer than Gavin thought he would be, and more pliant than he ought to be. Wasn’t he supposed to be made out of metal and plastic? If Gavin hadn’t known him, he would have been unable to guess he was an android by simply holding him in his arms.

Soon, Connor hugged him closer and they were pressed chest-to-chest, Gavin’s face in Connor’s neck. All he could think about was to make some stupid joke about the “grinding” Connor had promised but he held his tongue. His hands slowly came up the android’s back, almost caressing, as they swayed together, out of sync with the music. He was wearing one of his infuriating white shirts – the ones that looked so perfect, like he took them off every hour to iron them when no one was looking before putting them back on – but it was thin enough Gavin could feel every detail of his skin through the fabric. The warmth on the tip of his fingers. The bumps where his spine would be – that were probably purely aesthetical. Even the nearly unnoticeable outline of a mole.

Gavin’s nose was full of the other’s scent. He could catch the slight synthetic undertone, but found it wasn’t that unpleasant. Omega pheromones weren’t supposed to be as effective on other omegas as they were on alphas, but Gavin’s body didn’t care. It might not trigger the same instincts, but he still wanted more of it.

Connor moved slightly against him and Gavin leaned back, his arms relaxing as he thought the android wanted to break away from the hug. Connor didn’t loosen his grip, though. He looked directly into Gavin’s eyes, bringing their faces closer, and the detective thought _‘to hell with it’_ before meeting him halfway. Connor tensed slightly, then all but melted into him.

It had been a long time since he’d been reckless enough to kiss someone he barely knew without caring about the consequences. It was bad, and they really shouldn’t. They were still co-workers: what if it impacted their dynamic? What if it impacted the case? What if… Gavin found he couldn’t bring himself to care as their mouths slotted perfectly against one another.

Connor lips were soft and full, feeling amazing against Gavin’s. He forgot they were supposed to be dancing and froze in the middle of the crowd, but the other patrons were the farthest thing from his mind as he moved his mouth against Connor’s. The android answered immediately, supple lips closing around his own. Gavin felt, more than he heard, the soft sound vibrating through Connor’s frame. He pressed closer, eager to feel every curve of the warm body with his own.

Connor was better at this than he ought to be, Gavin absently thought when he felt Connor’s chin moved and the android nipped at his bottom lip, before drawing it between his and sucking lightly. Gavin was almost sure he groaned, but he was too focused on the kiss to pay attention to anything else, and his fingers gripped the other man tighter. Had he done this before? Had he downloaded some instructions directly into his brain?

Gavin broke the kiss to breath, feeling more winded than he should be. Connor’s hand slid into his hair and he didn’t let the detective lean back too far before bringing his face closer again. He initiated the new kiss, open-mouthed, and Gavin accepted the invitation without hesitation. Connor’s mouth tasted weird as the android’s tongue coaxed his into playing. It was wet, which surprised Gavin – maybe he’d subconsciously imagined androids wouldn’t have saliva. It probably wasn’t saliva though, because the sensitive parts in Gavin’s mouth soon started to burn lightly, like when he used minty toothpaste.

“Jesus,” he panted when they broke apart again. “What was in your drink?” He hoped it wasn’t gasoline or mechanical lubricant.

Connor giggled, a soft sound entirely too adorable.

“Nothing that could poison you in such small quantities,” he teased.

He pressed closer, craning his neck toward Gavin, and the detective threw any caution out of the window. He leaned forward to kiss him again.

Why did it feel so good? Stolen, dirty kisses in a nightclub shouldn’t feel so good. Gavin couldn’t blame it on drunkenness: he’d barely had anything. Maybe it was because he hadn’t kissed anyone in a long time, and he had forgotten how nice it could be. Or maybe, there was some truth to the algorithm created by CyberLife after all, and that was how it felt to kiss someone you were truly “compatible” with.

Connor’s tongue was playful, adventurous, and Gavin rose to the challenge as best he could, chasing it into Connor’s mouth. Soon, they were fully making out as people danced around them. The hand in Gavin’s hair lightly massaged his scalp; the other one slid to his neck, grazing the sensitive skin there and making Gavin shiver. There was no way Connor could miss Gavin was sweating. He was only human after all and the crowded ambiance made him feel too hot and too itchy. His skin was probably damp, but Connor didn’t seem to care.

They shifted slightly, and Gavin’s thigh ended between Connor’s legs. The android’s scent changed immediately. Slight touches of arousal mixed with his already sweet smell, going straight from Gavin’s nose to his belly. He felt his body warm up in response. Connor moaned and sucked on his tongue. Gavin had no doubt his own smell was starting to display his growing arousal as well.

Dirty images came to his mind. He thought of dragging Connor to a recluse, dark space of the club to draw as many of those sweet moans from him as he could before someone came to kick them out. He lowered his hands to the small of the omega’s back, itching closer to his ass, so temptingly clad in snug fitting pants. He pressed closer still, Connor’s breath warm on his face, his tongue pliant against his.

Someone bumped into them and they nearly lost their balance. Gavin accidently bit down on Connor’s tongue.

“I’m so sorry,” he immediately blurted out when they broke apart.

Connor laughed. A strong, blue blush had settled on his cheeks and nose.

“It’s fine. You didn’t hurt me.” He looked around them, and Gavin knew the spell was broken. “We should get back to the others,” he added, sheepish.

Gavin tried to ignore his frustration. He was right: the middle of a busy nightclub wasn’t a good place to be doing this and the last thing they needed was a nosy alpha to come their way, attracted by the smell of two horny omegas. All the reasoning in the world didn’t prevent him from missing Connor’s warmth as soon as he stepped back.

They made their way through the crowd to where they’d last seen Nines and Anderson. The two alphas looked like they hadn’t moved. They stood five feet apart, pointedly not looking at anything in particular. Anderson was still holding a drink, but Gavin doubted it was the same one than when he’d first seen him.

“Are you alright?” Connor asked when they reached them.

“Aren’t you two the life of the party?” Gavin commented at the same time.

They would both have stuck out less at a funeral. When Gavin briefly met Nines’ eyes, however, a sliver of awkwardness wormed its way into his gut. What was he supposed to say in such a situation? _‘Hey, I just snogged the omega you’re most likely pining after and, judging by your expression, you saw all of it.’_

It didn’t have to mean anything, though, did it? It was just a bit of fun between friends, a way to let out some steam during a relaxed evening. Or maybe… maybe Gavin could man up for once and admit – at least to himself – he was starting to develop a bit of an attraction toward the other omega.

“Everything is alright,” Nines answered blankly as Hank emitted a non-committal grunt.

“Are you bored?” Connor asked like he didn’t notice the building tension, bless him. “Do you want to dance with Gavin? I’ll keep Hank company.”

Some part of Gavin’s mind remained stuck on the word “Hank.” In his perception of the world, Anderson wasn’t the kind of guy that looked like he had a first name. He was just… Anderson. Or “that prick.” And tonight, “that prick” had apparently decided to stay true to his reputation.

“No,” Anderson said, nearly a growl. “I think I’ll go home.”

There was something on his face, something Gavin recognised immediately. He remembered how Anderson had been a few years back, when he had started to slip. He’d had very bad days, when he was forced to go back to work, when nobody could get anything out of him. When Fowler would try to approach him, no matter what method he used, be it comprehension or threats, Anderson would just get more and more worked up.

The usually quiet man would then snap in a booming voice that would make Gavin’s entire body cringe. The Lieutenant would make a scene, scream at anyone who got too close and break a few chairs before falling into complete apathy. The other cops had learned to stay the fuck away from him when he was in one of those moods. During those days, he tended to busy himself with paperwork, never tearing his eyes away from his screen.

Gavin had heard cops talking. They still respected Anderson a lot, they remembered how he used to be one of the best cops in the whole DPD. They pitied him, they wished they could help him, but Anderson had cut all ties with his friends and pushed everyone away. Nobody knew how to reach him in his grief.

With time, that kind of scene had happened less and less often, but Anderson was still known to be an irascible man. In fact, Gavin was surprised he had held back that long. Two whole weeks working with androids and one of the cops he liked the less without slamming the door and drink himself into a coma? He guessed the man _was_ getting better, in a way.

The two androids had no idea what was happening, though.

“Are you sure?” Connor asked. “I’m certain we can find something to do that will be fun for all of us.”

“I feel too old for all this stuff,” Anderson retorted. “I’m sure you three don’t need me. I wouldn’t want to stand in your way.” His eyes drifted to Gavin.

The detective immediately tensed. He’d seen them. Gavin felt defensive, getting ready for whatever snide remark that would undoubtedly come.

Connor got closer, reaching out.

“But we-”

Anderson pushed him away. Hard.

“I said no.”

Connor’s expression fell, replaced by one of shock and hurt. Nines straightened up, ready to intervene. Gavin surprised even himself when he reacted faster and stepped between Connor and Anderson.

“Leave him alone,” he spat. “You’re drunk. Go home.”

Anderson towered over him with all his height. Other cops said the Lieutenant used to be kind, caring, that the loss he experienced had destroyed him and rebuilt him into a completely different man. Gavin had never known the previous Anderson. He had only known that one, the one who hated the entire world. And that one was scary, even though he would never let it show.

“Oh, don’t worry. I wouldn’t want to damage your little toy.”

Gavin sneered.

“Go fuck yourself, Anderson.” He was vaguely aware Nines had stepped forward to grab the Lieutenant by the shoulder, trying to pull the two of them apart.

“Seriously, Reed? Not so long ago, you were the first one to insult androids. I never thought I would see you suck face with a plastic Ken doll from CyberLife. Is everything else you say just an act as well?”

Gavin didn’t know what exactly pushed him to talk, the direct provocation or the pain on Connor’s face. In any case, he reacted the only way he knew, by attacking back.

“Everyone’s been fucking tiptoeing around you for years, Anderson, but I’m sick of your bullshit. Yeah, your son died because an android fucked up the operation. It doesn’t give you the right to take it out on every android. It’s not Connor’s fault, it’s not Nines’. For fuck’s sake, if the surgeon had been human, would you have blamed everyone on the planet? Stop punishing others because you hurt. They had nothing to do with it.”

Anderson marched on him to seize him by his jacket. Gavin’s feet nearly left the floor.

“You have no right to talk about this,” Anderson hissed to his face, chocking on pure rage. “Don’t believe for one second that because you’re an omega, I won’t punch you.”

“Please, do. Give me an excuse to reciprocate.”

Anderson was torn away from him by Nines. Connor’s hands closed around Gavin’s arm and forced him to take a few steps back.

“Stop this immediately,” Nines ordered.

Anderson stared Gavin down, breathing hard. For once, he looked really pissed off, like he was about to lose control. For a few seconds, he seemed on the verge of ignoring the consequences and just hit Gavin. In the end, he shrugged Nines’ hands off.

“I need to get the fuck out,” he mumbled, before shouldering past them.

Gavin watched him stalk toward the exit. When he looked back toward him, Connor seemed particularly upset. His LED was rapidly blinking yellow, and he was still gripping Gavin’s arm, almost painfully. But the one he was staring at was Nines.

“You knew?”

The alpha android straightened his shirt in a gesture that seemed nervous.

“Yes,” he finally admitted.

“And you didn’t tell me?” Connor snapped.

He suddenly turned on his heels and strode off. Nines followed him immediately.

“Connor, wait.”

Gavin found himself alone in the middle of the crowded nightclub, slowly but surely starting to feel like shit. Eventually, he walked after them.

After the stuffy interior, the cool air of the summer night almost felt chilly. A soft breeze dried the sweat on his face when Gavin stepped outside. Streetlamps were piercing the night in a harsh light. Anderson was nowhere to be seen. Voices made him look around, and he spotted Connor and Nines, a few feet away from the entrance. He hesitated to join them, but soon changed him mind when he realised they were definitely arguing.

“You didn’t think it would be an important information to share with me?” Connor was saying in a tone Gavin had never heard him take.

“I thought you would do your own research,” Nines answered. He was still so calm, his voice low and his face carefully blank, but this time it looked more like defensiveness than anything else.

“Oh, you just assumed?” Connor sounded indignant.

“Well, if we had interfaced recently, I wouldn’t have had to assume.”

“And whose fault is that?” Gavin cringed when Connor nearly screamed. “You’re the one who has been pushing me away for the last two weeks!” He marched off, ignoring Nines who trailed after him.

Gavin stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jean and walked in the other direction. He had a displeasing after taste in his mouth and he doubted it had anything to do with what Connor had drunk.

He had done it again. It was an unfortunate side effect of having taught himself to see every interaction as a fight, to distrust everyone and to expect a blow at any moment. He had forgotten how to make people like him. He had become unable to keep the relationships he really wanted.

And now, he ruined everything he touched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The angst again! I'm so sorry, but it had to be addressed so Hank can begin to evolve. Very soon, I promise!


	7. Androids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin isn't ready to let go of what happened at the nightclub. Hank knows he fucked up, but the detective could at least wait for them to be off duty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't updated in a while, so here are several chapters in a row.  
> This chapter contains Canon-Typical Violence.  
> Once again, English isn't my first language and no one edited this but me.

The next few days were tense, to say the least, and no matter how hard Hank tried to convince himself he didn’t care, he couldn’t help but feel guilty at the idea it was his fault. He wanted to believe he was just worried about the case, that the way they all avoided to talk to one another was making work harder and that he felt frustrated at the idea they could mess this up and never catch the culprits because he had opened his mouth without thinking. He wanted to believe it wasn’t because they all looked so miserable.

Understandably, the two androids avoided him and talked to him only when necessary, always about the case and in short, efficient sentences. Connor seemed to tiptoe around him, the same way Sumo would when Hank would shout at him for trying to eat something toxic and he was waiting for a sign his human had forgiven him and it was okay to come slumber on the couch with him again. As if Hank was blaming Connor for… Cole. And it was to be expected; that was basically what Hank had said, what he had been doing for the last few years: blaming all androids for it. If only Hank had just kept his mouth shut.

Strangely, it looked that for some reason the events at the nightclub had drawn the two androids apart as well. Where there had been some warmth and complicity between the two, there now was coldness. They talked to one another with the same emotion as computers reading a text in artificial voices. Connor and Gavin, however, still respected their now daily tradition to go out for lunch together.

Three days after the nightclub, Hank and Reed were waiting in the van, parked right outside the little park where Connor sat on his usual bench. The omega detective wasn’t like the other two, oh no, when Reed had something against you, he would just say so. Many times, and with as much venom as possible.

“Honestly, Anderson, you’re the main reason I don’t want to grow old. You used to be one of the best cops: if growing old means falling down from grace to end up like you, I’ll pass.”

“Can’t you shut up for once?” Hank snapped.

Nines had gone out to fetch something to eat for the two humans – he’d probably volunteered to get away from them. Hank couldn’t wait for him to get back. Nines always interrupted their arguing to tell them to focus on the task at hands, which gave Hank a break.

The tension in the van, fed by Reed’s constant snide remarks, was starting to wear him down. It wouldn’t be that bad if Hank didn’t find some truth in what the detective was saying. The night before, he’d gotten drunk and looked at himself in the mirror of his bedroom. _‘You look bad, Hank. Really, really bad. You still haven’t found the courage to put that bullet in your skull. If you intend to stick around, you should act better than that.’_ Easier said than done.

“Seriously, man, what’s your problem with androids?” Reed continued. “They’re not hurting anybody. They just want to live normal lives, like normal people.”

Hank was slumped in a seat, arms crossed on his chest. It was difficult to find a comfortable position in the tight space. He brought a hand to his face to rub at his eyes.

If only he’d kept his mouth shut. Why hadn’t he kept his mouth shut? He kept asking himself the same question over and over since it had happened. He had vouched to himself he would not express his opinions out loud, at least for the sake of the case. He knew it would only make things more complicated.

But that night… He remembered he had stood next to Nines for longer than was comfortable. He had had no idea what to say, so they had remained in an awkward silence for the entirety of it. And then, he’d looked around and he’d seen them. Connor and Reed clinging to one another, their hands exploring each other’s body. They were kissing like they wanted to melt into one another.

Something had stirred in him. Something ugly. Something he hadn’t felt in decades – hell, maybe ever: he’d married a beta, he’d never been interested in a serious relationship with an omega. So, he was completely unprepared when he felt the jealousy of an alpha coil around in his guts. He didn’t even know what he had been jealous of. Of Reed? Of Connor? Of how happy and carefree they’d looked together? Maybe he’d been jealous to see them do what he would never authorize himself to do. In any case, it had pushed him to act out, to say anything so he could get away as soon as possible.

And now, he was paying the price for it.

“When did you suddenly become a defender of the android cause?” Hank mumbled.

“Well, apparently, in the asshole department, I’m not as bad as you are,” the detective retorted. “I don’t understand why they haven’t fired you, yet. You’re a relic from the past, not even able to adapt. There will be more and more android cases as time goes on: how will you handle them if you can’t even bare to be in a room with an android without insulting them?”

There was a narrow table with all their equipment on it, right underneath the screen connected to the camera on the outside. Hank violently slammed his hand on it; the van rattled from the shock. Gavin started.

“We’re in the middle of a stake-out, goddammit! It’s not the place nor the time for this. If you’ve decided to get on my case today, fine, but save it for later!”

Reed opened his mouth to answer. Thankfully, the back doors opened at the same time to let Nines in, holding take-out bags. He shot the both of them a dark look as he got inside.

“I was able to hear you from the outside. Could you please focus on the mission?”

“I’m sorry. Anderson’s ugly face is distracting,” Reed said.

“Oh, that’s so mature of you, Reed,” Hank snapped back.

Nines didn’t react. He lowered the bags on the table, eyes on the screen.

“Where’s Connor?”

“Right there,” Gavin answered, gesturing toward the screen. Then he straightened, suddenly alert. “Well, he _was_ right there just a moment ago.”

“You lost sight of him?” Nines asked, hesitating between indignant and incredulous. “Because you were too busy arguing?”

“I stopped looking just for a few seconds!” Reed protested.

Hank moved closer to inspect the screen. They had the camera pointing directly at the bench where Connor always sat, but the android was nowhere in sight.

“Where the fuck did he go?”

Nines wasn’t listening anymore. Hunched under the low ceiling, he stood motionless, his LED rapidly blinking yellow.

“He’s nearby,” he said eventually. “Just a street away.”

Hank couldn’t help but feel his shoulders relax slightly. “Why did he leave the park?” he asked.

“He said he-” Nines interrupted himself abruptly. He stood there for a few seconds, brow furrowing, as his LED cycled faster. “I lost him,” he breathed suddenly.

“What?” Reed said.

“I lost him. It should not be possible. He was _right there_ ; he cannot have gone that far so quickly,” Nines explained, his voice growing urgent.

“Then, what’s happening?” Reed pressed.

“I don’t know, I lost him. Something is wrong.”

“Where was he?” Hank asked. He tried to remain as calm as possible. “Right now. Just before he stopped answering.”

Instead of telling him, Nines turned on his heels. He pushed the van doors open and jumped down on the road. And then, he started running.

Hank swore, grabbed his gun, and ran after him, Gavin in tow. Nines was so fast Hank struggled to keep up. He sprinted down the street, following the fence that surrounded the park, his tie flying over his shoulder. He nearly knocked over a man pushing a stroller before him. Hank squeezed himself between the stroller and the fence a few seconds later, his heart thundering in his chest. The man shouted after them, but he ignored him. He hesitated to scream at Nines to slow down but decided to save his breath instead.

As soon as Nines ran past the open gates of the park, he turned left, crossed the road without looking and dashed toward an adjacent street. Hank looked around before crossing, not wanting to get run over by a car, which allowed Gavin to catch up with him. Together, they rushed after Nines.

Hank feared they would eventually lose him, but Nines hadn’t lied when he’d said Connor was nearby. When they finally reached the other street, Hank nearly hit the android who had stopped dead in his track. The street was a cul-de-sac that was completely empty save for a few parked cars. This allowed Hank to immediately spot the three men holding a seemingly unconscious Connor and trying to load him inside a white van.

“You, there!” Reed shouted, coming to a stop near Nines. “Stop right where you are!” He raised his gun toward them, and the three men froze.

One of them, blond, seemed oddly familiar but Hank couldn’t place him. _‘Why did you follow them, Connor?’_ And how had they managed to knock down an android? He had no time to ponder over that. He went to stand next to Reed.

“Detroit Police!” he said in his best booming alpha voice. “Step away from this man!”

The three abductors looked at them with a surprising calm, apparently nonplussed to have been caught red-handed by police officers. Nines stood there, his LED flickering between blue and yellow as his eyes flew to each man. He was most likely scanning them with one of his fancy inner gadgets, pulling out their identity.

One of the men let go of Connor; this disrupted the other two’s balance, and they lost their grip on Connor. The poor android fell on the sidewalk like a heavy sack of grain. The first man reached inside his jacket – it was the blond one, _‘for fuck’s sake, where did I saw him?’_. Both Hank and Reed adjusted their aim on him but refrained from firing just yet.

“You don’t want to do that,” Nines said in an even tone as the man pulled out a gun. “You have been seen by police officers. It’s over: surrender.”

Hank kept an eye on the blond man, but he gave no sign of using his gun for now. Just behind him, the shock of his fall had startled Connor awake. The android seemed unarmed. At first, he looked around him with unfocused eyes, and his confusion allowed the other two abductors to pull him on his feet and try to shove him inside their van. At that point, Connor recovered enough to start struggling.

“Hey, you two! I said get away from him!”

Hank aimed in their direction, but their incessant movements prevented him from getting a clear shot. He took a few steps forward. The blond one immediately raised his gun toward him, but Reed shot first. Hank heard the small detonation right next to him, the bullet caught the man in the upper arm and blue blood stained his sleeve. _‘Androids,’_ Hank finally realised. _‘They’re androids.’_ He had seen similar models on the street before. The surprise was enough to make him falter in his steps. They had expected humans, not androids. What was the motive if the culprits were androids?

The gunshot startled the other two. The longer Connor was awake, the more he seemed to regain strength and awareness. Soon, his assailants weren’t enough to contain him anymore: he managed to throw one on the ground and to shove the other against the van. Hank rushed to help him, counting on Reed and Nines to cover him.

Gavin’s shot didn’t seem to have damaged something important, because the android raised his arm despite the gushing wound. He fired two times, missed. At least Hank thought he did; in the confusion, he didn’t have time to check his partners – nor himself. Connor spun around when he heard the shots. He was way closer than Hank was, and he jumped on the shooter before the Lieutenant could reach them.

The blond android stumbled under Connor’s weight as the young omega clung to him. There was another shot. Hank only heard the sound of it, had no time to see where it had been aimed at or even who had fired. Hank reached them a second later. He tore the assailant away from Conor; he fell to one side as Hank pushed the blond android in the other direction.

“Connor!” someone shouted.

The struggle was short. Hank managed to make him drop his gun, but the android was stronger than he had anticipated. Despite his lithe frame, he had no problem to topple Hank. He fell on top of him, heavier than he ought to be, all unyielding metal and impenetrable chassis. He pinned him down; Hank tried to fight him off, to no avail. The android reached for his face, to strangle him or to bash his head against the concrete.

Hank had no time to panic, to think about his situation or a way out. Nines was on them immediately. He seized the blond android and threw him off as if he weighted nothing. Hank scrambled to get up, but Nines had no need for his help. Hank watched, incredulous, as the alpha android gripped the other man’s arm and pulled it at an unnatural angle. There was a loud crack and the arm broke, revealing inner circuits, damage plastic and tubes full of blue blood. What took him more by surprised though, was the low growl that came with the display of violence. Nines’ LED was a solid red, his face a mask of pure _rage_.

“Nines, stop!”

The android didn’t listen, didn’t even glance at him and Hank understood, in a sudden realisation, that what he had before him was an alpha who had lost control. He took the head of the blond android between his hands to slam it against the ground. The forehead cracked right open but that didn’t seem enough to incapacitate an android because he still struggled helplessly against Nines. The alpha ignored his frail attempts to fight him off. He put one leg on his back, maintaining him face down on the ground, seized his head under the chin and began to pull.

Before Hank had any time to react, the head fucking _came off_ with a disgusting crack and a gush of blue blood. Nines threw it to the side as the body went limp, wires jutting out of the neck.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Hank shouted unvoluntarily.

Nines looked in his direction and briefly snarled at him, like he didn’t recognise him.

“Nines, he needs help!” a voice – Gavin’s – called.

The android’s eyes immediately flew to something behind Hank. He turned around. He vaguely registered the sound of car doors slamming, the engine of the van starting as the two remaining abductors made their escape, but that didn’t matter as he discovered Connor on the ground, Gavin hunched over him.

That last shot had hit him right in the chest. His shirt, with the name of some stupid band on it he had been wearing to look less conspicuous at the park, was drenched in blue blood. His LED was blinking red and yellow as his eyes looked at the sky, unfocused. Gavin had thirium all over his hands. He looked helpless as he hesitantly pressed his hands to the wound. How did you even tend to a damaged android?

Nines hurried to their side. As he knelt next to his friend, the rage melted from his face and was replaced by unbridled anxiety. For a second, his eyes raked over Connor’s body, his hands hovered over him and he looked as lost as the two humans were. Like he had suddenly forgotten everything his robot brain knew.

“I’m-” Connor suddenly blurted out. His voice made a weird static noise, and he cut himself off until it stopped. “I’m going to shut down in a few minutes.”

This seemed to snap Nines back to reality.

“He needs to be repaired immediately,” he said with determination. “There is a CyberLife agency only a few blocks away. I will take him there: they will have the parts and the engineers.”

Hank pushed away all panicked thoughts, fuelled by worry and adrenaline, and managed to focus on the cool reasoning he had earned after decades of doing this job.

“Can you manage on your own? I’ll take the van and see if I can catch up with the other two.”

Gavin jumped to his feet. “I’m coming with you.”

“No. The android is not as damaged as he looks,” Nines interrupted, gesturing to the different bits of the third perpetrator splattered on the sidewalk. “I’m sure we could repair him, or at least get something out of his memory. Call for reinforcement, have them bring him back to the precinct.”

Gavin nodded, reaching for his phone. Hank sprinted off. Nines would take care of Connor; he had no knowledge in this department. He needed to focus on what he knew how to do to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Noooo, I hate cliffhangers! I can't do that to you! So, I'm just gonna post the next chapter right away


	8. Minor Repairs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank is back at home and cannot stop worrying about Connor. He is forced to face some truths. At the same time, Connor and Nines show up at his place. Nines has some minor repairs to make on Connor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was fun to write!  
> I wonder if I wrote Nines as asexual? It wasn't intentional, but I was getting this vibe when I was editing. I'm not sure though. Please, tell me if you think I should put it in the tags?
> 
> Edit: In the end, I updated the tags, thanks for the comments y'all :)

Hours later, night had fallen, and Hank was back at home.

Standing in his kitchen, he busied himself by washing his dishes. Washing the fucking dishes, _him_. But the tension he felt wouldn’t come down. When he tried to sit down in front of the TV, his mind quickly drifted away from what was happening on screen and his leg kept bouncing up and down. He wasn’t about to start pacing like a maniac alone in his living room, so he decided to do the dishes. It looked – and sounded – more like he was taking his anxiety out on the silverware, water splashing everywhere, plates and glasses clinking against the bottom of the sink. It was a miracle he hadn’t broken anything yet.

 _‘They’re fine,’_ he kept repeating to himself in hope he would eventually calm down. _‘They’re all fine.’_

His search of the white van had yielded no results. Even after reinforcement arrived and several cars started patrolling the surrounding areas, they couldn’t find the two androids that had gotten away. Hank wasn’t entirely surprised by that – they’d had a lot of time to get away – but he was still disappointed.

Now, other cops had the description and the plate number of the van and were looking for it. Hank had reluctantly gone home when he had been assured they would take care of things: he was exhausted, he wouldn’t help anyone in his state. He doubted they would find the van that night, anyway. If they ever found it, it would most likely be abandoned on a parking lot in a few days or so.

 _‘Androids. Why androids?’_ They’ve been so sure the culprits would be humans. Because of this mistake, Connor had most likely followed them, thinking he had nothing to fear. It made no sense. _‘Why would androids attack other androids?’_ Hank shook his head. The question sounded stupid. For millennia, humans had done nothing else but murder one another. But if anti-android hatred wasn’t the motive, then what was it? A simple lust for killing? Then why had a body never been found?

Reed and a team of android engineers – you couldn’t exactly call them forensics, but their role was similar – had managed to retrieve the parts of the destroyed android. They’d taken everything back to the precinct. Reed had call him to tell him the engineers had assured him they would work on it. They didn’t think they would be able to fix the android enough to “revive” him, but they said they could probably restore him enough to make his memory accessible.

Nines had called both of them as well. When he’d got a hold of Hank, he’d explained the engineers of CyberLife had successfully replaced the most important damaged parts of Connor and the young omega was no longer at a risk of shutting down. When Hank had told him Connor wouldn’t be expected at work the next day and he could take a few days off, Nines had answered androids didn’t need a recovery time as long as humans and Connor would be operational in the morning.

“I don’t care about physical recovery,” Hank had said. “He just got through a traumatic experience; he deserves some time off.”

Nines hadn’t answered, but Hank thought he could read into his silence. _‘Psychological recovery for machines? Why do you care?’_ Well, it turned out, he did care. He cared a fucking lot.

Hank set aside the last plate. He leaned on the sink, his eyes unfocused as he watched the water drain. He replayed the events of the morning in his head for the hundredth time.

He remembered how Nines had completely lost it, how he had destroyed the other android without thinking. How he’d looked, eyes wild and lips drawn back in a sneer. Hank should have felt afraid by such a show of violence, but instead, he felt some sort of… trepidation. His mind kept going back on the scene, again and again, like a mystery he couldn’t solve.

It made no sense. How could an android lose control like that? Why would Nines – cold, distant Nines – endanger the case by destroying a suspect? It wasn’t logical, it wasn’t rational, it wasn’t anything a computer would do. It was the act of an alpha protecting his omega. And it wasn’t possible. Unless Hank accepted the only explanation that would make sense out of Nines’ – and Connor’s – behaviour. An explanation he would have recognised ages ago if he hadn’t put his head so far up his arse.

He remembered how terrified Nines had looked, bending over his wounded friend. He remembered that first night, two weeks ago, when he and Connor had gone to Jimmy’s. The easy conversation, the laughter. How much he’d hurt Connor with his stupid words. Every little quirk in the way the androids acted. The affectionate touches between them. The jokes. The anxiety. The irascibility. Things that had no practical use. Things a machine had no need to do.

Unless Hank accepted they were alive.

He bent in half over his sink, suddenly feeling sick. Feeling like he’d just opened his eyes after keeping them willingly shut for so long. He’d treated Connor and Nines – and every android he’d came in contact with – like shit. He couldn’t help but think of every unfair thing he’d done and said.

He’d been wrong. So, so wrong. The realisation felt humiliating. Terrifying. And somehow, liberating.

The piercing sound of his doorbell startled him out of his thoughts. In the living room, Sumo gave one valiant _bork_ and went right back to sleep. Hank dried his hands on a towel and nervously went to his door. He wasn’t waiting for anyone, could it be…

He flung the door open. Connor was standing on the other side, Nines right behind him. A mixture of intense relief and feverish anxiety washed over Hank. This was too much for his old heart.

Connor was on his feet – which was a good sign – and smiling hesitantly. He still had his shirt, torn and covered in blood. Most of the thirium had dried off by now, but the fabric looked stiff and darker around the tear. The short sleeves and wide neck allowed Hank to see the skin on his left shoulder was missing, revealing the white, damaged chassis. He could even see something shining blue underneath.

“Connor? I thought they’d fixed you up?” he said, unable to pry his eyes away from it.

Connor ducked his head sheepishly.

“I’m sorry to disturb you like that, Lieutenant. They took the bullet out and replaced every damaged component. This is just cosmetic,” he said, gesturing to his shoulder. “My external chassis was broken by the bullet and by the engineers when they opened me so quickly. It doesn’t endanger my functioning.” He grew hesitant. “I was growing restless. I didn’t like being in the repair facility, and Nines can fix that for me, so we left and… Your house is closer, so…”

Hank saved him the bother of explaining himself.

“Get in,” he said, stepping to the side.

Connor smiled again and walked inside the house. Nines gave Hank a curt nod as he followed. He was carrying a bag, full of android parts still in their package. Connor immediately went to say hi to Sumo. The big dog, without bothering to get up from his bed in the corner of the room, wagged his tail under the affectionate pats.

Once he was done with his greeting, Connor gestured to his shirt.

“Would you mind me using your bathroom? I’m still covered in thirium.”

“Sure thing.”

Hank showed him to the bathroom. He felt like he was walking on eggshells around them. There were so many things he wanted to say, so many things he ought to say, but he didn’t know how. Once Connor was in front of his mirror, with his stupid post-it notes he’d forgotten about, he hesitated for a second, then nodded awkwardly and left, closing the door behind him.

When he came back to the living room, he was surprised to see Nines pacing nervously, going from the kitchen to the sofa and back again. He kept combing his fingers through his hair, unconsciously pulling at it, and messing his otherwise perfect hairdo. When he noticed Hank, he stopped only long enough to ask:

“I’ll need tools for Connor. Do you have anything I could use?”

“Yeah,” Hank answered hesitantly.

He reluctantly left the android alone to go to his garage. After an extensive search, he managed to get his hands on the old toolbox he hadn’t used in years. In the kitchen, Nines had stopped pacing. He was bending over a chair, holding the back of it in a tight grip, his head hanging low between his shoulders.

Hank softly lowered the toolbox on the table, next to the bag Nines had been carrying. He stood there for a few seconds, at a loss of what to do. He wasn’t good at this; he had never been. Not even… before. _‘Do better, Hank. They deserve it.’_

Slowly, carefully, he approached Nines and put a hand on his shoulder. Nines looked up at him with a puzzled expression.

“He’s fine. He’s safe. He’s still with us.”

Nines opened his mouth, then looked away and gritted his teeth.

“I should have protected him,” he said finally. “I always tell myself that I’ll be here for him, no matter what. That as long as he is with me, no harm will come to him. And I messed up. When he needed me the most, I messed up.”

For a second, he looked so lost, so terrified. His shoulder was firm and warm under Hank’s hand. Metal, inner gears perfectly adjusted, inhuman strength. But right now, he was completely vulnerable.

“I know how it feels. Believe me. Some people, you love them so much seeing them in pain hurts you. You wish you could protect them from everything, keep them happy and safe. But… things don’t always work out the way we want them. I know how much you can hate yourself when you feel like you’ve let someone down.”

It was hard to say things like that, to open his heart and try to reach out to Nines. He didn’t want to remember how he had felt right after Cole’s death. But he needed to do better.

“But right now, Connor is safe, he’s alive. We all messed up: you, me, Reed. We should have been watching him, and we should have come to his aid faster. We still have a chance to make it up to him, though. Right now, you’re probably the one he needs the most.”

Nines didn’t answer for a while, his eyes on the toolbox in front of him, unfocused.

“I don’t know if I’m strong enough,” he said, softly.

“It’s okay. I’ll be here,” Hank answered immediately.

They stayed silent for a while, then Nines straightened up a bit, squared his shoulders. Maybe he would have taken a deep breath if he’d been human.

“Why are you so nice, all of a sudden?” he asked. There was genuine curiosity in his voice, and maybe a little bit of teasing.

Hank shrugged.

“Maybe I’m tired of being ‘sad, alone and drunk’.”

Nines snorted at that and the mood seemed to brighten up a bit. Hank patted his shoulder twice, then went to leave the kitchen. He turned around briefly.

“I…,” he started, then shook his head. “Never mind.”

He left and went to his bedroom, ignoring Nines’ questioning look. _‘Lean on me. If you feel like it gets too much, if you need support, come to me.’_ How was he supposed to say something like that out loud? To a man he’d been treating so poorly only a few hours ago. Would he even be strong enough? He’d completely crumbled after Cole’s death and had spent the last four years not willing to do anything to get back up. Would he be strong enough for another alpha to lean on him for emotional support?

But… it was like he’d gotten an electroshock. He was done making excuses for himself. He was sick of it. He would always grieve Cole. But he wanted to do better.

Once in his bedroom, he rummaged in his closet for a while, then retrieved one of his old hoodies for Connor. It would be way too big, but it would still be better than his ripped shirt. He hesitated, then took out a second one for Nines. His shirt didn’t look as damaged as Connor’s, but it was no doubt covered in dried up thirium Hank’s human eyes couldn’t see.

He exited the bedroom with the clothes on his arm at the same time Connor got out of the bathroom. He’d taken off his shirt. Hank’s eyes briefly wandered over his lithe torso, then settled on his shoulder.

“Come on,” he gestured for Connor to go first, then followed him to the kitchen.

Nines seemed to have regain some calm. He was going over Hank’s tools and cleaning the ones he needed. He smiled when Connor joined him, hesitant.

“Well. Let’s get this over with as soon as possible,” the young omega said, rubbing his own, naked arms.

Nines took a chair to situate it near the table. Connor straddled it, leaning his arms on the back of it. Nines moved a second chair and sat right behind Connor.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

At a loss of what to do, Hank leaned on a nearby wall, arms crossed over his chest, to watch the process.

Nines examined the damage panel with his fingers, his hand lightly hovering over Connor’s left shoulder and pectoral. Some of it had been busted open by the bullet. Hank could see the components inside of Connor, the tubes containing the blue blood and travelling throughout his entire body. The shot had hit dangerously close to the thirium pump. Hank knew nothing about android machinery, but he doubted it would have been good for Connor if it had been damaged.

Nines eased his fingers under the white panel and tried to pry it off. It resisted. He mumbled, saying the deformation of the piece made it hard to take it off, mostly talking to himself. He took a screwdriver on the table and slid it inside through one of the tears. Connor tensed.

“Sorry,” Nines whispered as he used the screwdriver to force the piece to move.

“Does it hurt?” Hank asked as it came off with a crack.

Nines didn’t remove it completely. Circuitry linked it to the inside of Connor, interwoven wires jutting out of his shoulder as Nines carefully manoeuvred the panel to observe it.

“No,” Connor answered. “I turned off my pain sensors, so it’s like my shoulder is anesthetized. It still feels weird, though, and there are a lot of warnings and error messages spamming my processors.”

Nines started methodically unplugging each wire and circuits attached to the panel. Some of it looked damaged, and he took out two small pieces Hank couldn’t identity but that Nines had apparently judged broken beyond salvation. He carelessly threw them next to the toolbox, splattering thirium on the table.

Hank couldn’t help but wince when Nines scooted closer and reached around Connor to dip his hand _inside_ the omega’s pectoral. Nines briefly glanced his way as his fingers expertly examined the wires and internal machinery.

“Does this sight disturb you, Lieutenant?”

“It’s Hank,” he said without thinking. “And don’t worry about me.” After a second, he added: “Do you need help?” before he realised it was stupid. He wouldn’t know what to do.

Nines hesitated.

“You would be okay with that, Connor?”

“Yes,” the android answered immediately. He really had a misplaced trust in Hank. It was too late, however. Nines was already gesturing to Hank.

“Take a chair.”

Hank complied. He rounded the table to take a chair on the other side and brought it next to Connor. On Nines’ instructions, he situated it on Connor’s left. Once he was seated, he was close enough to see all the damage in detail, the metal rod that was the android’s clavicle and even catch a glimpse of a moving component, deeper in his chest. Was that his goddamn _heart_ – his thirium pump?

“See those wires? I’ll need you to hold them to the side,” Nines said.

Hank very hesitantly raised his hand. Nines mercifully took it and gently guided it. He made Hank reach inside the open panel and positioned his fingers for him. He made him press against a couple of wires, holding them out of the way for Nines to carefully unplugged something.

It finally allowed him to remove the external panel completely, and he discarded it on the table, before reaching for his bag. He took out new components to replace the ones he’d taken out of Connor, as well as an intact panel, clean and stark white. It looked sturdy, which only highlighted how much Connor’s shoulder had suffered when you compared it to the broken shell that now laid on the table.

Nines moved Hank’s fingers to make him hold something else. Hank felt thirium coating his skin; it made it harder for him not to let his hand slip.

“Don’t move,” Nines mumbled as he used a screwdriver and his bare hands to replace and plug wires back in again.

As the android worked, Hank scooted closer and hooked his other arm around Connor's chest, seeking to stabilise his grip. His palm settled against Connor’s naked abdomen. He still had skin there, and it felt warm and soft, indistinguishable from human skin, except maybe for the fact it was completely hairless and perfect.

Connor was tall, but he was also lithe. They’d given him the outlines of well-defined abs and pectorals, without going overboard with it – he had been built to pass as a beta, after all. He felt almost small under Hank’s huge hand. When he spread his fingers, they seemed to engulf his side, his thumb pressing just under his right nipple.

Connor let out a soft sound.

“Am I hurting you?” Hank asked before he could prevent himself.

“No,” Connor repeated, sounding suddenly very small.

Hank didn’t dare to move to look at his face. Nines frowned without halting his careful movements and glanced at the back of his omega’s head, so Hank wasn’t the only one who had noticed a change.

Slowly, carefully, like he was worried he would be pushed away, Connor inclined his upper body to the side, until he was leaning on Hank. His arms left the back of the chair, and Hank soon felt his hands gripping his back through his shirt. He hid his face in the Lieutenant’s neck, his soft hair tickling his cheek.

Nines took his hands out of his shoulder to avoid damaging anything.

“Connor?” he asked.

Then, Connor seemed to crumble like a house of cards. He curled in on himself, gripping Hank like a lifeline. Shivers wracked his frame. _‘Shit, can androids cry?’_ Hank wondered. His free hand snaked around the man’s waist. He ignored the thirium on his other hand to wrap his arm around his back and hug Connor close to him. A part of him – the alpha part – couldn’t help but sigh in immense satisfaction at how well the omega fitted in his embrace, like he was meant to remain there.

“I’m sorry,” Connor whispered in a strained voice. “I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault.”

“What are you talking about?” Hank asked. He tried not to pay too much attention to the robotic shoulder right under his nose and to lean back to see Connor’s face. The android refused to move, however, and pressed his head harder against Hank’s skin.

Hank’s heart was hammering inside his chest. The distraught omega in his arms was sending his instincts on overdrive. The pain little sounds Connor was emitting, as well as the strong anxiety broadcasted by his smell were stressing him out in return. He _needed_ to protect the smaller man. He had already fucked up today, he would never do that again. He cradled the omega, ignoring the bruises his strong grip was leaving on his back.

Still right behind Connor, at armlength from Hank, Nines looked completely dumbfounded, his hands still raised halfway in the direction of Connor’s shoulders. His fingers were covered in thirium, and he apparently didn’t know how to deal with an android in the middle of a breakdown more than Hank.

“I was so sure the abductors would be humans,” Connor eventually managed to say. “I didn’t even consider for a second that they could be androids. So, when those three androids told me they had a problem with their car, I followed them like an idiot. I didn’t even think. I trusted them instantly.”

Hank made a soothing sound right next to Connor’s ear.

“Don’t blame yourself. We all thought they would be humans. It’s not your fault.”

“I shouldn’t have left my place at the park anyway. When they got me close enough to their van, they used something on me. I don’t know what it was. Some sort of electrical device they pressed against my neck. It forced me to shut down. They must have used it on the other androids, to prevent them from calling for help.”

“Don’t think about that now. We’ll have all the time in the world to write down your testimony and work on the case when you come back to the precinct.”

Hank raised one hand to hold the back of Connor’s head in a way he hoped reassuring. Without thinking, he kissed the android’s temple. He barely had to move: Connor was pressing himself so close to Hank his skin was right under his lips. Connor made a chocked-off sound and nuzzled into his neck. Hank felt him inhale.

“I put you all in danger. One bullet and Gavin or you would be dead. You can’t be repaired like me. When everyone was shooting, I thought I would see one of you drop to the ground. I was so scared. I don’t know what I would do if one of you had been hurt because of my carelessness.”

“It didn’t happen, Connor. Everyone is alive and well.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“There is nothing you need to be sorry about,” Hank repeated. “We should have been watching you.”

Looking very hesitant, Nines reached out and laid one hand on Connor’s back. Slowly, he got closer until he was able to lean against his omega. He hooked one arm around his waist and pressed his head between his shoulder blades, his cheek against his naked skin. Connor seemed to relax under the touch.

“I was so scared,” he said softly.

“It’s over now,” Nines answered. “You’re safe.”

Hank didn’t move, except for his hand drawing circular motions on Connor’s back. Nines was right there. He could feel his warmth. It was impossible for them not to touch as they held Connor between them. Hank had no idea how to feel about it. He’d never been intimate with another alpha. He’d hugged a few friends, but that was it. He should probably feel territorial of the omega in his arms, but he had a better control of his instincts than that. Connor clearly wanted Nines’ contact, and it wasn’t Hank’s place to make the choice for him, to deprive him of that.

And… well, when Nines wasn’t consciously trying to intimidate him, he didn’t feel threatened by him. If he could make an effort for Connor, he could certainly make one for Nines. Circumstances had already proven that despite his aloof demeanour, Nines was far from cold and emotionless. He didn’t feel ready to reach out for Nines yet, but he didn’t disentangle himself from them either.

None of them moved as Connor’s scent gradually came back to normal.

Nines had quickly finished repairing Connor’s shoulder under the bright light of Hank’s kitchen, as the omega kept clinging on the Lieutenant arm for comfort. He had finally been able to reactivate his skin on this part of himself, concealing his new panel. From an external perspective, it looked like nothing had happened. He also reactivated his sensors and as they got used to the new parts, he had the foreign impression of his shoulder being sore, but other than that, he was fully operational again.

Hank had given them clean clothes. Connor had pressed the fabric against his nose to inhale the alpha’s smell on it. It was too big for him, but it felt comforting. Hank had then offered them to stay the night, and Connor, feeling emotionally exhausted, had accepted immediately.

The Lieutenant had fetched pillows and blankets and arranged two beds for them, one on the couch and one on the floor right next to it. As he kept saying he was sorry he had nothing better to offer, Nines had opened his mouth. Connor knew him well enough to know he was about to inform the Lieutenant they didn’t need beds and could simply enter sleep mode standing in the kitchen. Connor had elbowed him to keep him quiet. Hank wanted to make a nice gesture for them, they would let him.

As Hank was about to leave them alone and retreat in his bedroom, he had hesitated and put one hand on Connor’s arm.

“I’m sorry,” he’d said, and by his expression, Connor had understood he wasn’t talking about this morning.

“It’s okay,” Connor had whispered back. They’d hugged and Connor had heard himself blurting out: “I’m sorry about Cole.”

Hank had stepped back to take his face between his hands and look him in the eyes.

“You know it’s not your fault. You know you don’t have to be sorry for that.”

Connor had nodded. Hank had looked as sad as Connor felt, like his android’s heart was breaking, and yet… and yet he felt better, somehow.

Now, both Connor and Nines laid in the dark, Connor on the sofa and Nines on the ground next to him. Sumo was snoring from his dog bed. Connor was staring at the ceiling. He should just set an alarm to wake up early next morning and enter sleep mode. It would force him to stop thinking for a while, to stop reliving the events of this morning. But something held him back.

Being held in Hank’s arms had felt amazing. He’d felt safe, he’d been able to let go and express the turmoil of emotions burning inside him. Hank had been warm and solid against him, strong enough for both of them. But Connor now felt like he needed more.

Since they had moved in together in Detroit, Connor had taken the habit of going to Nines when he felt lonely, or simply when he felt like it. In the middle of the night, he would let himself in the other android’s room and climb into bed next to him. Nines would welcome him without a word. They would hold hands in the dark, their minds melting into one another, until Connor’s yearning for closeness was appeased and he would finally enter sleep mode.

These last two weeks, however, Nines had pushed him away. After finding his door locked several nights in a row, Connor had stopped trying to join him. He couldn’t understand what he’d done wrong, why Nines suddenly wanted to keep his distance from him. He didn’t think Nines had grown tired of it. He had always perceived, through their bond, that despite not seeking out contact himself, Nines was happy to give it to him and drew as much pleasure from it as Connor did. He had hoped Nines would eventually explain, but the alpha’s behaviour hadn’t changed in the slightest outside of this. He still talked to him as easily, hadn’t display any kind of hostility. He would just duck away when Connor tried to reach for his hand.

Tonight, though… Tonight Connor wanted so bad to feel Nines close to him. He yearned for it like he had never yearned for anything in his life. He _needed_ to feel him alive and well, he needed the safety of his arms. He craved for Nines to tell him everything would be fine, but he didn’t know how to say that out loud.

Without moving from his lying position on the sofa, he let his arm hang over the side of it until he could feel Nines’ form on the ground, right beneath him. He doubted his partner was asleep. In fact, he wouldn’t be surprised if Nines had vouched to himself he would stay awake all night to watch over Connor. The omega grazed his friend’s arm with the tip of his fingers, feeling the rough fabric of Hank’s hoodie. He didn’t say a word, didn’t dare to move further than that.

For a moment, Nines didn’t react. Then Connor heard the blankets shifting. The alpha got to his feet and joined Connor on the sofa. Thirium pump hammering faster with hope, Connor pressed himself against the back of it to leave him more room. As Nines pushed the blankets apart to slide in next to his omega counterpart, Connor sit up long enough to take off his top. Nines seemed to understand and imitated him without saying anything. Connor discarded the hoodie on the ground. They both settled back down again, chest to chest, and Connor sighed at the skin-on-skin contact, just to let Nines know how contented it made him feel.

Nines slid an arm under him to wrap it around his back and hold on to him. Connor nuzzled closer, pressing his nose on the other’s neck as Nines’ free hand caressed his shoulder and trailed down his arm until it reached his hand. Their fingers intertwined, their skin peeled back, and Connor couldn’t suppress a loud moan as they finally interfaced.

Their minds crashed into one another. Connor was immediately overwhelmed by the onslaught of information, every single thought crossing Nines’ head, the flurry of intense emotions Nines had no idea how to deal with, even the sensory inputs from his captors, which allowed him to feel his own warmth against Nines’ skin. Connor moaned again and clung to Nines, afraid he would be swept away by the intensity of it but not willing to let go anyway.

Everything poured into his processors with no coherence for a few seconds, and Connor felt a sensation of vertigo, as dizzying as it was pleasant. _‘It’s been too long,’_ he thought idly. _‘I’ve missed this.’_

 _‘Me too,’_ came from Nines.

Slowly, the flood ebbed down, and Connor was able to start to make sense out of some of it. The strength of Nines’ anxiety fully hit him.

_‘I’m so sorry. I should have been with you. I should have protected you.’_

_‘I know the risks of our job. You know I don’t expect you to protect me from everything that could come my way. It’s impossible, and I know how to take care of myself anyway.’_

They weren’t exactly talking with words. Their meaning was conveyed by what they felt. As Connor grasped Nines’ anxiety, he had no problem understanding the cause of it. In turn, he pushed his reassurance toward his partner, letting him _feel_ how Connor didn’t blame Nines, didn’t blame any of them. Making him feel his trust and his affection.

_‘I’m not mad at you. You didn’t let me down.’_

It was more efficient than just words, but it didn’t seem to calm Nines down immediately. He was flooded with… was that shame? And fear?

_‘But if I can’t even protect you, if I’m not enough…’_

Connor could tell Nines didn’t want him to know about this part of his thoughts, but it was impossible to hide when they were interfacing. Nines briefly hesitated to remove his hand from his, but he didn’t, and his line of reasoning slowly unfolded in Connor’s mind.

Connor had been the one to convince him to sign up for the CyberLife’s program, Connor had been the one who wanted to push forward and get to know Hank and Gavin. If he was looking for something more with the two humans, then maybe there was something Nines wasn’t giving him, maybe he was unsatisfied with his partner. Maybe he wanted to leave him. Maybe he would, now that he knew Nines wasn’t even able to keep him safe.

Connor suddenly understood Nines had been refusing to interface because he didn’t want Connor to discover his fears, because he didn’t want to confront them, because if he did, if Connor knew about them, then maybe he would tell him that yes, he _did_ want to leave. Gavin had said something stupid to him two weeks ago, probably without thinking like he usually did, and Nines hadn’t been able to take it out of his head ever since. There also was a part of him, less logical, that was depressed at the idea he couldn’t make his omega happy.

Connor was completely dumbfounded by this discovery.

 _‘Of course not I don’t want to leave you,’_ he answered, trying to crush Nines’ insecurity with the certainty of his own feelings. _‘You should have talked to me, Nines, I would have told you.’_

But there was no point in blaming his partner or ignoring the validity of his feelings. Now that he knew about it, he could try to make it better.

_‘I’m not unhappy with you. It’s not because I’m… I’m falling for someone else that I love you any less.’_

Nines made a soft sound that was very unlike him.

_‘Love?’_

_‘We’ve interfaced before. Surely, you’ve felt it.’_

_‘You’ve always been better than me at identifying feelings.’_

Well, if Nines needed reassurance, Connor would make sure he would give it to him. As much as he needed. He nuzzled into Nines’ neck, inhaling the synthetic alpha scent, that was as efficient on him as the real thing. He knew his sensitivity to it was artificial, something engineers had added to his programming when they’d made him an omega, but everything about them was artificial. It didn’t make it less real. And so, Nines’ smell was comforting to him. His arm around him, his hand in his, made the anxiety of his day slowly fade away.

Connor pushed all of that into Nines, making him feel how important he was to Connor. How much Connor loved him and admired him. How happy he made Connor. He had grown accustomed to living with Nines and he couldn’t imagine it differently. Nines was his other, his partner, his alpha, even if those words probably meant something else to them than it did to humans. He understood Connor in a way no one else ever had, not even Markus.

_‘I can assure you that my desire for Hank and Gavin has nothing to do with alleged shortcomings on your part. That I can love them and still love you completely as well.’_

He felt Nines relax against him. As he all but melted into him, their bodies slotted more perfectly together. Nines’ free hand roamed on his naked skin, Connor’s fingers idly drew patterns on his chest, their embrace growing more intimate.

_‘I have to ask. Are we…’_

Nines’ emotions, as well as his intents, were confused and meddled, because the android himself didn’t know how to sort through them. Connor thought he understood, though.

_‘Together?’_

Nines didn’t have to nod: Connor felt the confirmation in his mind.

They had never talked about it, and Connor realised now it had been a mistake. Sometimes during those months they had spent fighting together for android rights, Connor had started to think about Nines as “his alpha.” He didn’t even remember when it had started. He had never stopped to wonder if Nines was _his_ at all or if the alpha wanted to be.

Even when they had looked for a place to live, they hadn’t discussed it. They’d automatically looked for something for the both of them. It had seemed obvious to Connor they would keep living together, and Nines hadn’t stopped to consider it either. Maybe they should stop assuming, maybe it had to be properly acknowledged.

 _‘You know the depth of my feelings for you,’_ he conveyed, not only by words but by focusing on said feelings and pushing them toward Nines. Just like he would when he sent him an email, except if was much less precise, and at the same time much rawer than the data they usually exchanged. _‘If we need to name it, then yes our relationship is romantic. On my part at least, and if you want to, of course.’_

 _‘Of course, I want to,’_ Nines answered immediately. _‘I want_ you _in my life.’_ A sliver of hesitation wormed its way through their bond. _‘But we’ve never had sexual intercourse.’_

 _‘I know you don’t feel the need,’_ Connor reassured him. _‘And to be honest, as long as we can interface, I don’t either. If you want to try it one day, I wouldn’t be opposed, but we don’t have to have sex to love each other.’_

Nines’ happiness flooded him. The alpha android let him feel how much it meant for him that Connor understood him and accepted him like that. Connor sighed contentedly as Nines’ hand stroked up and down his back in a soothing motion.

 _‘If you really don’t like it, we can put a stop to it,’_ Connor offered. _‘We can just be friends with Hank and Gavin. As the woman said at the CyberLife agency, there are no obligations.’_

Once again, Nines didn’t have to formulate his answer in words. Connor could perceive he didn’t mind his omega counterpart spending time with others even in an intimate way, as long as he was assured Connor didn’t seek out others because he was tired of Nines. Plus, he liked Gavin. For some reasons, the detective’s bratty behaviour didn’t annoy him as much as it ought to. Maybe it came from that part of him that made him a hunter, a predator. He liked a challenge.

_‘And the Lieutenant has proven tonight he can actually be a decent person. Let’s hope it lasts longer than just one night…’_

Connor smiled at the grumpiness in Nines’ thoughts. Yes, Hank had been nice tonight. He had no idea what had gotten into him, but he hoped it would last.

He hadn’t even noticed how much of an unspoken tension Nines’ refusal to interface had created between them. Now that he finally understood, Connor was able to relax completely for the first time in weeks. All questions answered, all worries appeased, there were now only affection and reassurance passing between them in a feedback loop of comfort and intimacy. Nines taking Connor’s fears, triggered by the events from this morning, and quenching them by assuring him he was safe, and Nines would take care of him. Connor smoothing over his alpha’s insecurities by making him feel how contented he was with their relationship.

Gradually, all negative emotions disappeared from their bond, and they clung to one another, simply enjoying each other’s presence.


	9. Memory Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next day, Gavin is a mess when he gets to the precinct, even though Nines called him twice to assure him everything was fine.  
> They manage to get some clues out of the damaged android.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And one last chapter for today!  
> Don't hesitate to tell me what you think.

As soon as Hank opened his eyes, he knew something was wrong. The faint smell of cooking bacon, as well as the clinking sounds of cutlery were coming from his kitchen.

He rubbed at his eyes and combed his fingers through his beard, feeling tired after the too-short night. Memories came flooding back in his mind. Nines and Connor. He had the two androids at home. With a sigh, he pushed himself to his feet and put some clothes on. He’d known worse: going to work with massive hangovers and less sleep than that.

After a quick detour to the bathroom, he entered his kitchen and froze at the sight before him. Nines was standing in his kitchen, wearing the faded hoodie Hank had lent him the previous night. The sun was up, and it was already getting too hot to wear something like that, but the android didn’t seem to mind, and it wasn’t that that gave Hank pause. It was the silly apron Nines was wearing over it. Hank _vaguely_ remembered possessing it, but he had no idea where Nines could have found it.

Nines was gently stirring some bacon in a pan.

“Good morning, Lieutenant,” he said, not even turning to face him.

“What are you doing?”

“Cooking breakfast for you.” _‘Obviously,’_ indicated his tone, but his answer only deepened Hank’s confusion.

“Why?”

Nines took the bacon away from the fire and pushed it on a plate with his spatula.

“Connor thought it would be a nice way to thank you for letting us spend the night,” he explained. “He usually knows more than me about social norms, so I agreed.”

It had been ages since he’d last woken up to someone making breakfast. Since the androids didn’t eat, it was indeed a nice thought.

“Where is he?” Hank asked, craning his neck to look for Connor in the living-room. The blankets he had provided were carefully folded on top of the sofa, the pillows lying next to the neat pile.

“He took Sumo out for a walk.”

Hank couldn’t help but snort. “Those two seem to be getting along pretty well,” he commented, and Nines nodded. “Is he…” he added after a while, not knowing how to ask what he wanted to know.

Nines seemed to understand, though.

“He is alright. Better than yesterday, emotionally speaking, and fully operational in regard to his shoulder.”

“Good. Still, he doesn’t have to come to work today if he doesn’t want to.”

Nines smiled softly, with something that looked like affection.

“I doubt he will let us leave without him, Lieutenant.”

“Fair enough. And I told you, you can call me Hank when we’re not at the precinct.”

“Alright, Hank.”

Nines placed bacon, eggs, toasts, and even a cup of coffee on the table and gestured for Hank. He sat gingerly. _‘This is one of the weirdest mornings I’ve ever had,’_ he thought as he began awkwardly eating under Nines’ watchful gaze. He nearly chocked, coughed several times, burned his tongue trying to make it pass with coffee.

“This is very good, thank you,” he blurted out, face red. He wasn’t lying. He wouldn’t be surprised if it were Nines’ first attempt at cooking, but the android had probably downloaded all the instructions from the Internet.

Nines nodded.

Oh boy. He wasn’t used waking up with someone in his home anymore. In fact, he wasn’t used having anyone over, period. The night before, he’d spent a ridiculous amount of time lying in bed, listening for any sound coming from the living room, in case there was a problem, and they needed his help. It was irrational, of course: Nines had told him Connor’s condition was stable. He was not human; if Nines had fixed him properly, then there was no reason for him to suddenly be in danger again.

But then, he was almost sure he’d heard what sounded like a moan at some point. An honest to god moan. And not one that sounded triggered by pain. After that, he’d spent even longer trying _not_ to listen, and feeling like a perv as he couldn’t help but imagine what was going on on his own sofa. No wonder he had barely slept.

Nines watched like a hawk as Hank inhaled the food and finished right when Connor pushed the door open and came back with Sumo. The dog barely glanced at his human before going to his water bowl.

“Looks like he already made a new friend,” Hank commented.

Connor beamed. His eyes were shining, his hair slightly ruffled from the wind. If he had been human, his cheeks would have been pink from the exertion. The fear and anxiety from the night before seemed to have completely vanished, the android back to his overtly energetic self.

“He’s a very good dog, I like him a lot,” Connor declared enthusiastically.

Hank snorted.

“He’s gonna take advantage of that, believe me. Thanks for walking him.”

“I don’t mind.”

Hank got up to put his dirty plate in the sink. He caught Nines rolling his eyes when he asked Connor “Are you feeling better?” and hid a smile at the human mannerism. _‘I know you just told me, but I need to hear it again.’_

“I’m alright,” Connor confirmed. “My shoulder is as good as new.” He blushed a slight shade of blue. “I’m sorry for my behaviour yesterday, I-”

Hank interrupted him with a wave of his hand.

“Don’t be. There is nothing to be sorry about.”

Connor ducked his head. “Thank you, for letting us sleep here.”

“My pleasure.” _‘Or yours. On my sofa. Goddammit Hank, get your stupid alpha brain out of the gutter.’_ The androids would most likely notice his pink cheeks and faster heartbeat.

If they had, they didn’t say anything. They went to the living room as Hank cleared the table, gathering their stuff, getting ready to leave.

“We need to leave early if we want to stop by our place to get proper clothes before going to the precinct,” Nines said. Hank didn’t have to turn around to tell it was him. Despite their voice being very similar, they always sounded different enough.

“I’ll take you,” he called over his shoulder.

“In your antique?”

“My car is perfectly functional!” Hank protested. When he turned around, Nines was giving him a skeptical look from the living room.

“If you’re coming with us, then you need to get a move on.”

“Jesus, fine, I’m coming.” He abandoned the dishes and muttered under his breath: “Bossy android.”

Nines’ eyebrow inched up a few millimetres.

“Oh, when did I upgrade from ‘tin can?’”

Connor, who was examining his ruined shirt with a defeated look, elbowed him. Hank froze. Then he leaned against the sink behind him and rubbed at his eyes with one hand. Could he really blame them? He’d been more than adamant in his expression of android hatred. One decent gesture to them wouldn’t erase that in one night, especially if he went around using a questionable vocabulary the very next day. He hadn’t called them machines, but it wasn’t like he’d used the word “android” with anything else than contempt before. _‘You’re an adult, Hank. Get it together.’_

He lowered his hand to look at them.

“I owe you an apology,” he said. “For my behaviour at the nightclub, and well… for everything I said before that.”

Connor’s face softened as he turned around to look at him, but Nines crossed his arms over his chest.

“What prompted that?” he said before his omega counterpart had time to open his mouth.

Hank took a deep breath.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I was wrong. You’re not machines. I can see that now,” he explained, trying to convey how honest he was.

Connor smiled immediately, but Nines frowned.

“What made you change your mind?”

“You two, obviously,” Hank answered, then he added: “I just… stopped trying to ignore what was right in front of my eyes.”

Connor elbowed his friend again.

“Apology accepted,” he said, then threw a look at Nines.

The taller android eventually grunted and uncrossed his arms.

“Fine. But this better last.”

“I promise it’s not some kind of whim.”

“I will be watching you very carefully, Hank,” Nines warned, squinting at him, and Hank felt a shiver going down his spine. Damn, he pitied anyone getting on this android’s bad side.

Connor huffed.

“Please, ignore him.” He crossed the kitchen, and before Hank had time to react, he found himself with an armful of android. He had to take a few steps back to compensate for Connor’s unexpected strength.

Connor’s arms wrapped around him and hugged him close, knocking the breath out of him. He awkwardly patted the omega’s back. His nose filled with the scent of _happy omega_.

“Careful, you’ll break something.”

Connor immediately let go and blushed.

“Sorry.” He stayed close to Hank, however, and met his eyes. The lieutenant felt his heart stuttering. Connor craned his neck, one hand on his shoulder, and very carefully kissed his cheek. “Thank you,” he whispered in his ear.

Hank nodded, not trusting his voice.

“We’re going to be late,” Nines interrupted, but his voice sounded less guarded, a bit warmer.

Hank even got a smile from him as they left the house.

Gavin was a mess when he arrived at the precinct in the morning. He’d barely slept because he felt too worried for Connor, even though Nines had called him to tell him the engineers at CyberLife had had no trouble repairing the android. He had called again today, right when Gavin was waking up, to tell him Connor and he were perfectly fine, and they would see him at the precinct.

Gavin marched in as he usually did. After the academy, he had adopted the habit of walking right in the middle of every pathway, head high and eyes staring ahead – something he’d learned by watching alphas. He always refused to move first when someone was coming the other way. He had slammed into an incredible number of alphas, but cops from every precinct he’d worked at had eventually learned to step out of his way. It could be considered childish, granted, but Gavin hoped it would teach them, even on a subconscious level, that he wasn’t the kind of omega to lower himself into submission in front of an alpha.

This morning, as he entered the open space, he almost bumped into an alpha officer he had worked with once, two years ago. The man _did_ step to the side to let Gavin walk in, but he also added a snide remark on the bags under his eyes. For once, Gavin barely acknowledged his presence and walked past him without bothering to answer. Connor, Nines and Anderson were standing around the Lieutenant’s desk, and seeing Connor on his feet was all that mattered to him.

Connor smiled at him when he joined them.

“Good morning, Detective Reed,” Nines greeted him politely.

“Hi,” Gavin mumbled, unable to tear his eyes away from Connor. “I’m glad to see you’re alright.”

“As good as new.” Connor was indeed radiating, as happy as he always looked, like nothing had ever happened. This nearly made it worse for Gavin. All he could see was the android lying on the ground, his chest busted open, covered in thirium.

As usual, Gavin was wearing a good quantity of his cheap deodorant, designed to hide his smell. Sometimes, he got remarks on it: alphas, or even betas, commenting the manufactured perfume stank, and he would probably be more attractive without it, but he preferred that to the alternative. He didn’t want every alpha, with their particularly sensitive nose, to be able to smell his anxiety, his happiness, or his horniness, or the even worse possibility: to have young alphas, with less control, gravitating around him to try and get a good whiff – or, god forbid, to flirt with him.

However, maybe he hadn’t sprayed enough on him today, because the other three seemed to immediately notice something was wrong with him. Or maybe, the lack of sleep made him terrible at hiding how upset he truly was. In any case, Connor and Nines exchanged a quick glance.

“I think the Lieutenant and I should go check on the android we captured yesterday, to see if the engineers managed to repair him,” Nines declared.

“Good idea. While you do that, Detective Reed could come with me to the archive room. There are… things we need to review… for the case,” Connor added.

It was a blatant lie; they had no reason to go to the archive room, but it would give them the opportunity to be alone. Thankfully, Anderson kept his mouth shut, and Gavin followed Connor out of the open space, trying to look as relaxed as possible. He didn’t care what Anderson could think anyway. He didn’t have the emotional capacity for that right now.

Connor flashed his authorisation in front of the card reader and walked in first. As soon as the door closed behind them, Gavin threw his arms around Connor and shoved him against the nearest wall. This allowed him to press himself as close to him as possible, pinning him between the wall and himself to get them touching from head to toe. He nuzzled his face into Connor’s neck and relished how warm and firm he felt against him. Connor’s arms wrapped around his back and held him close.

“It’s okay. I’m okay, I promise.”

Gavin heard a broken sound and didn’t realise immediately it had come from him. He clung to Connor. He needed to feel how strong the android’s grip was around him. He needed this version of Connor, that was alive and unyielding; maybe it would make him forget the other one, the one that was dying again and again in his head.

“I’m so sorry. I was supposed to watch over you, and I didn’t.”

“It’s not your fault-”

“It is,” Gavin interrupted. “I was too busy trying to get under Anderson’s skin to keep my eyes on you. If I hadn’t been so childish, we would have seen the androids approaching you.”

“And I would have still followed them out of the park,” Connor said. Gavin could feel his voice vibrating in his chest, pressed against his own. He was perfectly calm, his hands drawing appeasing circles on the detective’s back. “I have a feeling each one of us is blaming himself, so maybe we should stop competing to know who’s the most responsible and rejoice nothing too serious happened.”

“You nearly died. Isn’t that serious enough?”

“I wasn’t as close as you think,” Connor retorted. “Pros of being an android. As long as my memory isn’t damaged, I can still be saved. Even if it has to be in another body. But let’s not think about that. There was no need for such a drastic solution.”

Still. Gavin was human, so was his reaction to seeing his friend hurt like that.

He didn’t let go immediately. Sometimes, watching his own every move at work was exhausting. Sometimes, he was tired of being strong, and he just wanted to let go. He could do that with Connor. Connor wasn’t an alpha, so Gavin was safe with him. He granted himself a few minutes to just breath Connor’s scent in. It didn’t display any kind of anxiety, and it had a calming effect on Gavin.

He didn’t notice immediately it was slightly different. Connor did nothing to try and hide it – people were probably too focused on the fact he was an android to give him shit for being an omega anyway. Like every other day, it was distinctively unique to Connor, and Gavin was able to smell Nines on him as well. It wasn’t a surprise. The two men lived together, so their smells ought to mix on a certain level.

However, there was a new, different smell on top of that Gavin wasn’t able to identify at first. He took a deeper breath, his nose in the crook of the android’s neck. Anderson. It was Anderson’s smell. What the…

If they had met at the precinct just a few minutes before Gavin’s arrival, Anderson’s scent wouldn’t already cling to Connor like that. Had he… spent the night at Anderson’s? Gavin didn’t think they had slept together: he would have been able to smell _that_ no problem, but if Connor had spent several hours being in Anderson’s house, where his smell would be the strongest, being around his stuff…

Gavin didn’t like the idea. Connor didn’t need to be around Anderson bitchy, android-hating self after what he had gone through. He didn’t know how to voice his discomfort to Connor, though, didn’t know if he ought to voice it at all. Connor’s embrace was warm and comforting; Gavin didn’t feel like breaking it.

Before he could make a decision anyway, the door opened. Gavin jumped back, not wanting to be seen in a kind of compromising position with Connor.

Speaking of the devil: it was Anderson. Gavin’s face closed on instinct as he steadied himself for whatever quip would come. Granted, Anderson had never been a dick to him _in relation_ to his omega identity, but Gavin had grown accustomed to expect it from anyone – even Fowler, who tried to be as professional as possible, had disappointed him at time.

“Sorry,” Anderson said. “If you… When you’re ready, Nines thinks he can get something out of the destroyed android we brought back.”

Connor nodded, then met Gavin’s eyes.

“Do you want to check it out now?”

Gavin hesitated, still waiting for something that apparently wasn’t coming. He certainly didn’t like the idea that Anderson of all people had seen him, if only briefly, in a moment of vulnerability.

“Yeah. Sure,” he said finally.

Anderson stepped to the side to let Connor exit the room first. Gavin followed. As he passed the Lieutenant, he felt a soft touch on his shoulder. Wha… Did he… Had he just… _patted_ his shoulder? Oh no… He must look really bad if even Hank Anderson wanted to comfort him. Too confused to react, Gavin followed Connor as Anderson closed the door behind them.

Nines was waiting for them in a room at the back of the precinct Gavin had never been to. He had no idea what its original purpose had been. A few years back, when androids had been introduced into most of the precincts in Detroit, it had been turned into an android workshop for the maintenance of this new kind of beat cops. Now, it was the domain of the “forensic” androids who intervened on crime scenes involving androids.

Two of those engineers were working another case at the back of the room when the three detectives walked in. It looked vaguely like a morgue with the sterile, metal tables, but the comparison stopped there. Instead of surgery tools, they had screwdrivers, drills, and wrenches. Android components were aligned on the wall or in cabinets with glass doors. Nines was standing near a table, at the side of the room.

When they approached, Gavin was able to take in what was lying on the table. It was what remained of the android that had wounded Connor. He was wearing only trousers, leaving his chest and his mangled arm bare for everyone to see. The engineers apparently hadn’t bothered to fix the arm. His head wasn’t entirely back on. It was lying on the table a few centimetres above the android’s neck and was linked to the body by a series of wires. The opened eyes were staring at the ceiling, unseeing.

Nines acknowledged Connor’s arrival with a smile. Apparently, whatever tension had been between them had now been resolved, and the quiet affection they reserved for one another was back.

“So, what have you got for us?” Connor asked.

“As we now know, at least three androids are involved in this,” Nines summarized for everyone’s sake. “They spend time in android-friendly locations where they don’t attract attention, until they spot an isolated potential victim. They attract them in a secluded location, away from witnesses, most likely by saying they need help like they did for Connor, or by using any similar excuses. The victim follows them with little worry: androids would rather be suspicious of humans than of other androids. The perpetrators knock them unconscious with a device we have yet to identify to prevent them from calling for help and take them away.” He gestured to the remains of the android before him. “Of course, we were all surprised our culprits turned out to be androids: we all thought anti-android hatred would be the motive. Unfortunately, our engineers were not able to bring back our suspect to life, but I still tried to access his memory to see what I could get out of it. That is when I discovered something interesting: this android’s memory has been greatly damaged – that is why the engineers can’t do anything for him. But the thing is, I do _not_ think it is my fault. Well,” he conceded, “the treatment I put him through did not help, that is for sure, but it was only the last straw.”

Connor frowned and got closer to examine the body. As he handled the severed head, the skin on his hands peeled back, most likely to allow him to probe the android’s memory himself.

“What do you mean?” Anderson asked.

“I believe that this android’s memory has been erased multiple times,” Nines explained. “So many times, in fact, that it has damaged it, hindering his ability to retain any kind of information. The forced shut down I put him through completely fried what was left of him. There is nothing in there,” he said, pointing at the head again. “No names, no addresses, nothing.”

“When you say his memory has been erased, you mean by someone?” Anderson asked.

Nines nodded firmly.

“Yes. I believe our culprits _are_ humans after all.”

“They use androids as bait,” Connor whispered without looking up. “Just like we did.”

“They use androids to attract other androids,” Nines agreed, “precisely because their desired victims would let their guard down and follow them more easily. When their henchmen come back with their latest catch, they erase their memory and send them back outside to trap someone else. CyberLife stores used to have equipment that allowed them to do that when they needed to reboot defective models. They must have gotten their hands on it the same way they got the device to knock androids down.”

“But why do this? So the androids don’t have anything interesting to reveal if they’re caught?” Gavin wondered out loud.

“That, and to prevent them from going deviant,” Nines answered. His face was constricted when he said that. He was in his “professional persona”, the one that put aside all emotions to focus solely on the job, but his real feelings were seeping through.

Connor wasn’t as good as him at keeping a blank face, and he seemed clearly upset when he looked up at his partners.

“They can’t develop a personality if they’re denied a past,” he said. “The persons we truly want to catch are forcing androids to capture their peers. Having to hurt others, again, and again, and again… They would eventually start to see the horror of their own actions and want to rebel. Our culprits are preventing that by rebooting them every time.”

“Wait,” Anderson intervened, raising a hand. “Are you saying those androids are not responsible for their actions? That they’re still like you all were before the revolution and they have no choice but to follow the orders that are given to them?”

“That’s exactly what we are saying,” Nines answered.

Anderson cursed under his breath, and for once Gavin agreed. It sounded so fucked up. All androids were now free to build a life for themselves and enjoy independence, while some assholes were forcing some of them to remain machines. The androids who had attacked Connor were as good as prisoners, even though they weren’t technically locked up.

“That’s fucking awful,” Gavin said, the words poorly conducting the horror of the situation. “Do you think those androids were among the first victims? Like, the first reports of disappearances?”

Nines shook his head.

“I already checked. I was able to scan them yesterday: their serial numbers don’t match any report. I even checked the ones that have nothing to do with our case. It’s possible the culprits kept the androids they already “owned” before the revolution.”

“What do you think they do with the androids they capture?” Anderson asked. “Do you think they just kill them, or they erase their memory as well, for some reason?”

“On that topic, we don’t know more than before we caught that android.”

“You’re wrong,” Connor said softly.

They all turned to look at him. He was still hunched over the damaged android, his white, skinless hands pressed to the head. His LED was blinking rapidly, an indicator his processors were working hard. He looked up at Nines.

“There was still something in his memory.”

Nines frowned.

“Really?”

“It’s a bug,” Connor explained. “Something that sometimes happened when androids get rebooted. Markus thought it might be linked to deviancy. Some piece of data gets stored in places that aren’t normally linked to the memory of what we experienced. It allows the android to regain some memories even after they were rebooted. It’s an unvoluntary process, like some kind of survival instinct. This one erased some lines of codes in charge of one of his minor components and put something else instead. An address.”

“I did not think to check that,” Nines said.

“An address? What address?” Anderson asked.

“I don’t know. There was no name with it. I think it’s a place the android went to recently.”

“Do you think it could be their base of operation?” Gavin asked, hopeful.

“There is only one way to find out,” Connor answered. “But it’s far out of Detroit, so it’s going to take us a while to get there.”


	10. Night Stop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team drives out of town to follow their new lead, and they need to stop for the night for the humans to rest. Connor has to share a room with Gavin, and his body has an unexpected reaction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT: This chapter contains some very short Gavin/Connor. Those boys aren't ready for a foursome yet and you can fight me on that. It's coming, though (Maybe I should put a slow burn tag, idk). They're not going behind anyone's back, and this chapter is mostly about discussing a polyamorous relationship anyway.  
> Mind the updated tags: Oral sex, Frottage

They left the very same afternoon in Hank’s antique car despite Nines’ protests. The Lieutenant had said driving always helped with his nerves and he wanted to process the latest developments of the case before they reached their destination. Nines had made a show of letting out the longest sigh imaginable, which had made Connor smile fondly. He’d called shotgun, if only to prevent Nines from bothering the Lieutenant while he was driving.

They’d looked up the address: it was a recluse house owned by an upper-middle class couple. Connor and Nines doubted they would find the culprits’ base of operation there and the humans agreed, but they still decided the four of them should go in case something unexpected awaited them there and they needed to defend themselves.

The drive would be several hours long, and Connor planned an itinerary that would allow them to stop at a motel at night fall and drive the rest of the way the next morning to reach their destination around noon. If Connor and Nines had been alone, they would have been able to take an automated car, drive all the way without any stop and ring at the couple’s door first thing in the morning, but Connor had to remind himself humans had different needs.

Sure enough, when they finally reached the motel, Hank and Gavin complained of being sore and both seemed in a sour mood. To cut their expense, they ranted two rooms. Connor briefly thought of sharing one with Nines, mostly because he was so used to living with him now, but quickly decided against it and offered to share with Gavin. He knew the detective would never be comfortable sleeping in the same room as one of the alphas – and the division ‘one room for the alphas, one room for the omegas’ would be more suited to the humans’ sensibility anyway.

Hank and Gavin quickly ate at the small restaurant adjacent to the motel, while Connor kept them company and Nines went to check their rooms. Soon, they had retreated for the night, and Connor found himself alone with Gavin in their hotel room. It was small and practical, with one bed on either side of it and a very narrow table under a window that didn’t open properly. The wallpaper was positively ugly and stained with humidity, but at least everything seemed clean and the sheets had been changed.

There was a tiny bathroom Gavin was currently using. Connor could hear the water running as he sat cross-legged on his bed, _deeply_ annoyed. This was getting ridiculous. Ever since he’d realised he would be spending the entire night in close quarters with Gavin, his untimely pre-constructions had came back full force – pre-constructions of a more… adventurous nature than the ones he had started to experience when he’d first met Hank. No matter what he did to shut the program down, it always restarted without his authorisation.

His processors seemed hard set on planning possible rapprochements in several steps with Gavin, as well as their estimated success rate. How to set the mood with intimate, yet light-hearted chatter, how to gradually get closer to him, how to invite him with teasing touches… How skin-on-skin contact would feel, how their kisses would heat up, leading them to…

 _‘Fuck!’_ He was doing it again.

Their kiss at the nightclub had left him craving for more. The way Gavin had manhandled him this very morning to slam him against a wall, stronger that what Connor had anticipated, had confirmed how satisfying it felt to have the detective full body pressed against his. How would it feel if they did the same, but without clothes? How would it feel, if they could kiss with the knowledge that they were alone this time? That nothing would require them to stop?

Connor let out a groan. _‘Seriously?’_ They were in the middle of a case, at a crucial point. They might get their culprits the very next day – or at the very least get information that would get them closer to the resolution of the case – and he was thinking about this _now_? _‘Being horny sucks,’_ he decided. It was so distracting, and it apparently didn’t care about the situation nor the timing.

It was the first time Connor felt something like this since he’d “awaken”. How did humans deal with it? Did they get used to it? How long would it take? He needed to focus on the case, he decided. Right, that was the solution. Push everything to the side and focus on the task awaiting them the next day…

The door opened, revealing Gavin in boxers and a loose-fitting shirt. A wave of heat exited the bathroom, from the water he’d used to shower. It was carrying the smell of his soap as well as… _‘Oh, RA9, no.’_ His deodorant had worn off, and Gavin had scrubbed the last bits off of his skin. The full force of the other omega’s pheromones hit Connor’s sensitive olfactory captors.

Nope, he wouldn’t do any thinking on the case tonight.

“I’m done, you can take the bathroom… And as I say that, I realise how dumb it sounds. Would you short-circuit if you took a shower?”

Connor smiled.

“No, I’m fully waterproof, or I would die at the first heavy rain. But since I don’t sweat, I don’t need to clean up as often as humans.”

“Make sense.”

Gavin used a towel to dry his hair. The movements of his naked arms revealed his developed biceps, and Connor found he had trouble looking away. The shirt clung to the detective’s still damp skin, outlining the strength of his back as he turned toward his go-bag opened on his bed. It hung low, and Connor’s eyes devoured the sight before him, his exposed neck, part of his shoulders. A pre-construction unhelpfully pointed out to him that it would be easy to slide his hands under the fabric, that Gavin would still be radiating heat from the shower. He could have sworn he was able to feel it from his side of the room, inviting, but that was probably just his imagination.

He thought idly about how happy he was that society had evolved and he now got to live in an era where relationships between omegas – or between alphas – were accepted. People must have missed out on a lot, centuries ago, when omegas had no other choice but to accept the alpha their family or community had chosen for them.

Humans still believed omegas were more easily attracted to alphas – and vice-versa – or that relationships worked better between persons of different genders. Well, Connor found Gavin very much to his liking, no matter that they were both omegas. Maybe it was because he was an android and things like pheromones or hormones couldn’t influence him. In any case, CyberLife had been spot on. The algorithm had found two men apparently exactly to Connor’s taste, one he wasn’t even aware he had a few weeks ago.

Connor hummed absently when Gavin bent down over his bed, and his shirt hitched up a bit, revealing a patch of skin on the small of his back. Gavin turned around, mouth opened to say something, but froze and blushed bright red, something very unlike him.

“Er… You okay there, Connor?”

“Of course. Why?”

Gavin seemed to blush more if that were possible.

“Well, you seem to be having a bit of a situation.”

Connor frowned and followed his eyes, lowering his gaze to his own crotch.

“Ah,” he declared eloquently. “Well, that’s an inconvenience.” One of his components seemed to be misbehaving and the omega penis he got installed after the revolution was visibly tenting the pants he wore to sleep. “It has never done that before,” he muttered, mostly to himself.

Gavin giggled helplessly and put a hand over his mouth to try and cover it.

“I’m so sorry,” he said when Connor looked up at him again. “I shouldn’t laugh, but you look so dejected.” The redness on his face had spread all the way to his ears. Connor knew, thanks to all the social knowledge plugged into him to make him better at analysing human behaviour, that sometimes people laughed in embarrassing situations to alleviate the tension, so he didn’t hold it against Gavin.

He focused on himself long enough to find out the incriminated component had indeed activated without his knowledge and turned it off. Or tried to. For some reason, it didn’t work. His frowned deepened.

“I can’t turn it off,” he announced out loud.

“That’s usually not how it works.”

Connor huffed in annoyance. Now that he had noticed it, his pants were feeling uncomfortable.

“I’m still a robot. I should be able to turn a component off when I don’t want it to be on!”

“It will pass,” Gavin answered with a wave of his hand. Apparently, he didn’t think the situation warranted to be worried.

“When?”

“I don’t know. It’s not like there is a set amount of time between the moment you get a hard-on and the moment it flags down. Just… try to think about something else.”

Connor scowled for a while, as Gavin threw his towel on the ground and cleared his stuff from his bed. It was like every single one of his movements made a wave of his smell, soap and omega pheromones, fly Connor’s way. The beds were so close after all, with only the smallest bedside table between them, that standing like that, the back of Gavin’s shins was grazing the mattress Connor was sitting on. If the android extended his arm, he would be able to touch him. To grab him and pull him toward himself… That line of reasoning was _not_ going to help his “problem.”

Connor groaned.

“It’s not working.”

“If you want it to work, you gonna have to stay at it for more than five seconds, Con,” Gavin retorted. Connor hid a smile at the nickname. With a sigh, Gavin sat on his bed to face him. “Maybe we should talk about the case.”

Connor let out a long-suffering sigh, just for show.

“What do you want to talk about? We won’t have new elements until tomorrow.”

Gavin hesitated, his face turning serious.

“Those androids… it’s awful what’s happening to them. Being forced to do that and not even being aware of what you’re doing, because your memory keeps being erased.”

Well, _that_ would take his mind away from other things. Connor ducked his head.

“Yeah…”

“Is there a way for them to get their memory back?”

Connor thought for a while, even though he wasn’t very optimistic for the two remaining henchmen.

“If their memories were stored on a computer somewhere, it could probably be uploaded back, but Nines is right. They got rebooted so many times I don’t think their minds are working properly anymore. It happens to androids too, like mental illness for humans.” Connor absently wrapped his arms around himself. “I’m not sure they would want to remember anyway. After everything they were forced to do, after hurting so many of their peers… well, you don’t really want those memories…”

There was a moment of silence, then he heard the covers rustling, and Gavin came to sit next to him. He got close enough that Connor got the confirmation his body felt hotter than it usually did. Carefully, Gavin slid his arms around him. Connor sighed and leaned on him, raising his own hands to wrap them around the detective’s back.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and Connor felt the rumble of his voice through his chest. “I shouldn’t have talked about that. I’m really not good at this. Making friends and keeping them. I’m out of practice.”

“You’re good enough for me,” Connor answered in a low voice.

He could have sworn he _heard_ Gavin smile. He felt the detective’s hand on his hair, petting him in a slow, circular motion. His processors immediately focused on that, on the reassurance and warmth it brought.

It reminded him of that evening in the nightclub, when Gavin’s hands had wandered all over his body, triggering foreign sensations in their wake. It had been all new to Connor, a bit overwhelming, but also intoxicating. They hadn’t done anything since then, not even kissed again, and he found he already missed the contact, already wanted more.

“We’ll find who’s doing this, and we _will_ stop them,” Gavin assured. “So, nobody else will have to suffer because of them.”

Connor nodded and closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. He didn’t want to think about that now. He focused on Gavin’s body against his, on their embrace. With the two of them like that, safe and close, he felt like the exterior world was far, far away from them, that it couldn’t reach them. That they were safe in a little bubble out of time.

“Stay with me tonight. Please,” he whispered.

He felt Gavin hesitating, probably wondering what Connor meant. They were sleeping in the same room, after all, but Connor didn’t want them to sleep in their respective bed, so close but not touching. They couldn’t _know_ each other by just a touch of their hands, like he and Nines, but maybe if they held onto one another through the night, he would get a close approximation of that intimacy.

“Alright,” Gavin eventually answered.

Slowly, he laid down, his arms still around Connor. The android went with him willingly. They rearranged themselves, lying next to each other, Connor’s head on Gavin’s chest. As their legs moved to find a comfortable position, Connor’s erection, that had started to flag down, brushed against Gavin’s hip, and found itself very much awake again.

Connor snorted.

“Whatever efforts you made to calm me down are getting ruined right now.”

Gavin laughed again, a sound Connor was already addicted too. It was so sad he didn’t get to hear it that much. Oh well. He guessed he could find a way to make the detective laugh more often.

He raised his head, his hand idly tracing patterns on the human chest, to look at him in the eyes. Gavin’s hand came up to brush aside a lock of hair on Connor’s forehead and he leaned into the touch.

“And may I ask what makes an android horny?” he said softly.

Connor raised his eyebrows in a suggestive manner.

“Well, there’s just two of us in this room. It’s not like there are a lot of possible causes here, detective.”

Gavin blushed.

“What? Me?”

Connor smiled slowly, feeling predatory and bold. He hitched one hand lower, tracing Gavin’s stomach, feeling the dip of his navel under the fabric. There was a pull of arousal in the other’s smell.

“And since it’s technically your fault, I think _you_ should do something about it.”

Gavin’s eyebrows shot up, and his blush settled more firmly on his cheeks and his nose. There was a slight itch in his breath, that Connor felt on his face since there was so little space left between them.

“Are you… coming on to me right now?”

It was Connor’s turn to blush a little. That, too, was new to him, as he hadn’t had a lot of opportunities to blush when he lived only around Nines, but he had more experience with it, and contrary to the boner, he knew how to tell when it was happening.

“Yes,” he answered, nonetheless. “I know we haven’t really talked about it, and I know we don’t _have_ _to_ take that path, that we could just be friends, just like the woman said at the CyberLife agency, but I think we’re getting along pretty well, and I would like to try and see if we could be… erm… compatible in that regard as well. It doesn’t have to be serious, and if it doesn’t suit one of us we can stop, or if you don’t want to you can kick me out of the bed, I won’t be mad at you. It’s just that… that kiss was really nice, and I would like to see how pleasant more of _this_ could get… with you…”

He trailed off, feeling the pull of what he now recognised easily as embarrassment somewhere in his belly. So much for his alleged negotiator eloquence. He had planned this so carefully in his mind, only for it to get out of hand almost immediately, probably due to his lack of experience. He had aimed for seductive and suave but had stumble over his words as soon as the slightest doubt that maybe Gavin could reject him had whispered at the back of his mind. Feelings. Sometimes, they were so sweet, other times they were like poison.

Gavin’s thumb trailed over his cheeks, which was undoubtedly bright blue now.

“Well… I’m not gonna deny I’m attracted to you,” he said. “I’m sure you figured that out already, Mister Most-advanced-detective-android…”

“Second most advanced,” Connor corrected absently.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to lower my guard around an alpha, even if this alpha is Nines and he doesn’t have the same prejudices as humans, like he assured me many times already, but with you… I don’t have that problem…”

Connor smiled, enjoying the feeling of Gavin’s hands trailing on his body.

“But wouldn’t it make things more complicated? Like… between you and Nines? I’m not gonna end up with a jealous alpha trying to tear my head off, right?”

Nines had already assured him he was okay with Connor seeking that kind of relationship with Gavin and/or Hank the night before, when they had slept together on Hank’s sofa, but he guessed it couldn’t hurt to make sure again. He reached out to Nines, his LED turning yellow. Nines’ honest reassurance came immediately, from the other side of the wall – Hank and the other android had the room right next to theirs.

“It’s okay,” Connor said aloud. “He knows about my intentions, and he consents to it.”

“Did you just ask him inside your head?”

Connor winked. “Wonders of technology.”

Gavin chuckled, not full-on hilarity, but it was still a nice sight to bear. It didn’t last however, and a crease appeared on his brow.

“And… Anderson?” he asked carefully. “You spent the night at his place, didn’t you?”

“I did,” Connor answered truthfully. This conversation was… well, bothersome, but it had to be done. They had to get things straight before making any decision. “It is true that even if there is something between us, I would still like to pursue a relationship with Hank. I wouldn’t want it to be exclusive. I’d like to share this with you, and Hank, and Nines. Or if you’re not comfortable with that, maybe have a different, separate relationship with Hank – depending on his feedback on the matter, of course.”

Gavin crunched up his nose.

“I’m not gonna lie. The idea of you with Anderson is not one I like. I don’t trust him around you.”

It was Connor’s turn to frown.

“Has he ever been inappropriate with you?”

“No, but never mind me. What about that time in the nightclub?”

Connor winced and averted his gaze.

“It did hurt, but he’s coming around.” Gavin gave him a skeptical look. “He is! He told us this very morning! I think seeing me wounded rattled him more that we realise. He doesn’t consider us machines anymore.”

“Hank Anderson having a change of heart? Those are strange times, indeed.”

Connor huffed at the tease, and lightly slapped Gavin’s chest, not to hurt him but as a sign of protest. Gavin answered with a new chuckle. He moved, his arms wrapping fully around Connor’s back in an embrace a bit possessive, but didn’t that feel nice.

“That kind of relationship,” Connor added, “it would probably be complicated, but I think it would be worth a try. And whatever we decide, it won’t be irrevocable. That’s the point of trying: if something doesn’t suit one of us, we can discuss it again, change it, or stop it entirely.”

“You have a lot of good arguments, don’t you?” Gavin teased.

“Negotiation is part of my skills.”

Gavin sighed, and Connor could see him think seriously for once. He gave him a minute.

“I doubt I would ever… be into Anderson that way. Not immediately, anyway. But if he stops acting like an asshole, I guess I could try to be… polite.”

Polite? That seemed like a small concession, but Connor could be happy with that. It would already be hard for Gavin, but if Hank was really committed to not go around insulting androids anymore, and if Gavin stopped trying to get under his skin, maybe polite could lead to friendly with time.

“And what about our problem at hand?” he asked, pressing his groin to Gavin’s thigh to take his point across. It wasn’t the best idea he ever had, because he felt a spark of pleasure shooting up his belly at that, and he wasn’t going to be able to follow a conversation if he distracted himself like that. The way Gavin’s eyes darkened though, his pupils widening and his focus suddenly sharp on Connor, was rewarding.

“Well… I guess that if you’re okay with that… and if we’re not going behind Nines’ back… whatever problem we might encounter later can be dealt with in time.”

One of Gavin’s hands slipped under his shirt. The contact of his fingers and warm palm on his sensitive skin suddenly became the centre of Connor’s attention. He had no idea how he had managed to negotiate himself into this position, nothing had gone according to plan, they had talked about things Connor hadn’t anticipated, but things seemed to be going a way he had no complaint about so he guessed he had done a good job somehow.

He leaned over Gavin, the detective allowed it, and their lips met again for the first time since that evening in the nightclub. This time again, Connor wasn’t able to suppress a groan. He didn’t know if his sensory captors made him more sensitive than humans or than other androids he knew, he didn’t know if it came from the fact that he was an omega or from the way CyberLife had built him, but that simple contact, lips against lips, was enough to send pleasure messages firing all over his processors.

It was not nearly enough, though. He knew there was a way he could get more if he... Experimentally, he trailed his tongue along Gavin’s upper lip. The detective obediently opened his mouth. _Yes… like that…_ He explored Gavin’s mouth with his tongue and a multitude of information immediately exploded in his brain. Engineers had built his mouth so he could analyse any sample by simply licking it. He still used it on the job, but his first kiss with Gavin had made him discover something engineers had probably not intended: it also made his mouth _very_ sensitive.

His LED blinked yellow once or twice when he involuntarily analysed the composition of Gavin’s saliva, but he paid no attention to the results – telling him the exact brand of his toothpaste – as Gavin’s tongue played with his. It made him feel like little electrical shocks were triggered in his mouth, then travelled all around his body, and pooled in his crotch or in his extremities, making him curl his fingers around a fistful of Gavin’s shirt.

One of his legs slipped between Gavin’s – not on purpose, but he didn’t mind – when he stretched over the detective, trying to feel more of his body against his. Gavin bent his knee, which brought his thigh snugged against Connor’s groin. A loud moan echoed through the room and Connor realised a second too late – and with a bit of embarrassment – that it had come from him. _That… that was…_

Gavin broke the kiss.

“Have you ever…”

“Had sex?” Connor completed. “No. But I think you’ll find I’m a quick learner.”

Gavin smiled, but turned his head when Connor tried to kiss him again.

“Okay, hold your horses. I just don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

Connor sighed, but took the time to ponder over that.

All those new sensations. It was… overwhelming. On the verge of being too much. But he was with Gavin. He trusted him, he liked him. He wanted this. He would have probably panicked with anyone else, but this was someone he knew and felt safe with, so he pushed aside any sliver of anxiety. No, he didn’t know what would happen, and this lack of control – the fact that he couldn’t anticipate his own reactions – was somewhat scary, but this was Gavin and he trusted that nothing bad would happen.

So, it was in all honesty that he smiled and answered:

“I really want this.”

Gavin seemed to relax at the confidence in his voice.

“I’ve… I’ve never done this with an android, so is there… anything I need to know? Like… something I shouldn’t press if I don’t want you to shut down?”

“No,” Connor said, shaking his head. “I had all the relevant upgrades installed, so I should be able to feel pleasure and reach climax. However, I must admit that I never tested it first-hand, so it is possible I could react, well, differently than a human. I don’t think nothing dramatic should happen, though.”

This seemed to alarm Gavin somewhat. “I should hope so,” he countered.

Connor rolled his eyes.

“I’m made out of metal, Gavin. I doubt that you will hurt me with a few kisses.”

He breathed out of his nose. “Okay but tell me if I do anything you don’t want me to do, no matter the reason. Promise?”

“Promise.”

Gavin brought their lips back together, to Connor’s immense satisfaction. He moved against the android, rearranging his grip on him – one arm wrapped around his back, his other hand on Connor’s shoulder. He rolled his hips to push him to the side, Connor caught his intent – perhaps a second too late, but he probably should get used to the fact his usual processing power had partially abandoned him in this situation – and rolled on his back. Gavin repositioned himself to lie on top of him, and Connor’s voice box once again activated on his own when the detective’s full weight pressed him down to the mattress.

The sweet pressure applied on his erection distracted him from the languid strokes of Gavin’s tongue against his own. He could feel the answering hardness in the other omega’s thin boxers, but the friction was not enough. He wanted to rut against the other man; no, not wanted, _needed_. He needed to get more of this pleasure.

He whined when Gavin broke the kiss and briefly leaned his weight back on his knees. The detective used the extra space between them to hook his hands under Connor’s shirt. The android helped him to get rid of the garment, that was immediately discarded to the floor.

“You too,” Connor breathed, preventing Gavin’s hands from exploring his chest by catching his wrists. He wanted to see the other man as well.

Gavin complied and took off his shirt in one swift motion. Connor unconsciously bit his lips at the sight before him. Gavin had more developed muscles than omegas usually did, but he had explained to Connor one day that he worked out regularly in hope to quiet some critics from alphas. He had scarce dark hair on his torso and trailing from his navel to underneath his boxers.

From the beginning, Connor had been fascinated by – and quite attracted to, if he were being honest – Gavin’s light stubble. Male omegas usually had less body hair, and Connor found his five o’clock shadow absolutely lovely. The pinprick feeling of it against his chin when they kissed was oddly satisfying, and Connor was delighted to discover it extended on his chest as well.

He refrained from saying so, however. Gavin would probably be weirded out by his strange fixation on body hair, but it was just that… as an android, he didn’t have any – except for the hair on the top of his head, of course – and Nines didn’t either so, just like Hank’s beard, he found it so human. He knew androids who would be disgusted by it, because they didn’t like humans, but Connor found everything that made them unique and different from one another captivating – just like he was enthralled by anything that was specific to androids.

Gavin used both his hands on Connor’s shoulder to push him back against the mattress; Connor willingly submitted to his strength. The detective’s eyes trailed over his naked chest. Connor worried for a second his cold perfection created in a factory would be a turn-off for the human, but he was quickly reassured by the hunger on his face.

Gavin’s head dipped into Connor’s neck and the android moaned when he felt a tongue tasting his skin, lips sucking on it. A part of his mind mourned the fact he couldn’t get a hickey, but he enjoyed the sensations, nonetheless. Gavin’s naked chest was pressed against his, Connor’s sensitive captors were able to map out every detail of it, to soak in his heat. There was a scar on the shoulder just in front of his nose. He longed to ask about it, but pressed his mouth to it instead, then traced it with his tongue. The components of Gavin’s soap popped-up on his close eyelids.

His exploration was cut off when Gavin moved lower, tracing Connor’s chest with his mouth and hands. Connor arched into the touch. Some alert informed him his temperature was on the rise, but he pushed it aside. Gavin lingered over his thirium pump, close to the emplacement where he had been shot. There was no trace left of the wound, and Connor combed his fingers through the detective’s hair. He briefly looked up at him, the hint of something sad behind the arousal in his eyes, then smiled softly. Connor smiled back, and Gavin abandoned his chest to go lower still.

He teased at his navel with his tongue. Connor couldn’t fathom why his creators had given him one but no genitals – maybe they’d figured he would be more likely to ruin his shirt in the presence of humans than end up completely naked. Even though it didn’t do much for him, he still found the sight of Gavin leaning over him, his tongue on his skin, deeply erotic.

The detective hooked his fingers in the band of Connor’s sleeping pants.

“Is this okay?” he asked, meeting his eyes again.

Connor didn’t hesitate before answering “yes” with an eager nod.

Gavin smiled fondly, then took the pants off, his fingers grazing Connor’s legs from his hips to his ankles in the process. Connor wasn’t wearing anything underneath, and he distinctively heard Gavin’s breath get stuck in his throat when his eyes fell on Connor’s crotch. He was completely hairless here as well. His penis was smaller than what an alpha or a beta would have, but he had been assured the size was perfectly standard for an omega. Gavin didn’t seem to mind, if his elevated heartbeat was any indication.

Connor keened under his gaze. If Gavin kept making him wait like that, he would… Thankfully, the noise seemed to bring him back to reality.

“Do you want me to-”

“Yes, please,” Connor interrupted, a tad bossy, but Gavin didn’t comment on it.

Connor moaned loudly, helpless to stifle it, when Gavin’s fingers finally wrapped around his dick. The sensation was absolutely glorious. No wonder humans were so obsessed with sex if it always felt anyway near like that. He bucked involuntarily in Gavin’s grip, but the man’s weight kept him down. Connor was sure his LED was a solid gold and his blush had spread to his shoulders.

Gavin had leaned back to kneel over him, his hand going up and down Connor’s cock in teasingly languid strokes as he observed him with great interest. Connor’s stomach and thighs tensed. He needed more. He longed to push into Gavin’s fist, to find more friction…

“The hell is that?” Gavin wondered out loud, apparently focused on a bead of liquid that was leaking from Connor’s slit.

It took several seconds for Connor to form a coherent answer. In the end, he plucked something out of his database and recited it, with no effort to make it seem natural.

“Water-based lubricant made to simulate the production of seminal fluid. It’s perfectly edible.”

Something wicked shone in Gavin’s eyes.

“Edible, yeah?”

He bent down to scoop the liquid with his tongue, and Connor thought he would shut down right here and then. He made a weird noise instead, as his dick twitched.

“You okay?” Gavin asked.

“Never been better.”

Gavin licked him again, from base to tip. Connor bucked up against him, and he pressed his hands on his hips to hold him against the mattress. Connor tried to focus part of his processors on not moving, because Gavin’s human strength would never be enough to pin him down, and he didn’t want to hurt him.

It took all of his willpower not to move when the detective took him in his mouth. His eyes fell shut when that wet heat closed around him. Pleasure coiled low in his guts, shot down his thighs that were uncontrollably tensing, all the way to his curling toes. He wouldn’t last long like this. It was too much for him, and he wasn’t used to feeling things like that.

Gavin started bobbing his head up and down, taking almost all of him in. Connor hurriedly pressed his hand to his mouth when a moan – even louder than the others – escaped him. At this rate, the entire hotel would hear him.

Idly, he searched through his subroutines and discovered that a few lines of code embedded in his sexual functions allowed him to properly express pleasure in a way humans could understand. It had first been created for sex models, for them to simulate pleasure with their clients. It had probably been installed in Connor at the same time as his omega components, and just like his erection, it had activated without him noticing. He didn’t manage to turn it off and wasn’t even able to turn down the volume. It seemed that the fact his pleasure wasn’t simulated made it malfunction.

So, Connor moaned helplessly as Gavin’s mouth on him utterly ruined him. One of the detective’s hand trailed up his belly; he spread his fingers, pressing him down. The other slid between his legs to palm his balls, which had Connor arch under his touch and his legs twitch on their own accord.

Then a finger slid between his checks. Gavin briefly took his mouth away from him to say:

“God, you’re so wet down there.”

Self-lubrication. Another subroutine that had been triggered without his knowledge. That was the last coherent thought Connor had to spare. For some reason, Gavin’s words, whispered in a husky tone, pushed him closer to the edge. Then he swallowed him again, his finger teasing at his entrance.

“Gavin… I’m gonna…” Connor managed between his moans.

Gavin seemed to understand. He didn’t move away but hollowed his cheeks and sucked on him. Connor came immediately.

His back arched and a moan got stuck in his throat, as his processors were flooded by an onslaught of information. Several alerts popped-up in front of his vision, his internal temperature went up by a few degrees at once and he feared for a split second he _would_ shut down despite what he had told Gavin. Then, the pleasure slowly ebbed down, and his artificial muscles relaxed on their own. He laid back on the bed. A sensation of relief and profound satisfaction replaced everything else. He was panting – something else he owed to that damn subroutine – but he didn’t try to turn it off again even though it was useless.

Gavin let him go and straightened up, licking his lips.

“You were right. Edible. And it doesn’t taste half as bad, compared to the human thing.”

Connor couldn’t help but giggle. His hands came up to cover his face, bright blue with his blush. Inner fans had activated to cool him down.

“Err… you okay?”

Connor curiously looked at him between his fingers, intrigued by Gavin’s sudden hesitation.

“Of course, I’m okay.” In fact, he felt completely relaxed. It seemed like his sexual subroutines also simulated the release of serotonin after an orgasm. If Connor ever found the android who had designed that, he would thank them profusely.

“Well, you’re… erm…” Gavin awkwardly gestured toward his belly.

Connor looked down at himself and discovered with a start that the skin on his stomach, right where Gavin had been holding him down a few seconds ago, had peeled back to reveal his white chassis.

“That… that wasn’t on purpose…” he blurted out, mortified.

After a few tries, he managed to turn it back on and synthetic skin reformed over the exposed part.

“No, it’s okay, you don’t have to turn it back on if you don’t want to,” Gavin reassured him, but it was already done.

“I’m sorry, it must have looked a bit… freaky.”

Gavin took his face between his hands and smiled reassuringly.

“No, I was just worried I had broken something.”

“Well, it didn’t look very human,” Connor said sheepishly.

“You’re not human, but I have no problem with that,” Gavin said firmly, before kissing him. Then, he took his hand and pressed it to his crotch. “See? It’s not even a turn-off.”

Connor giggled and kissed him again, then he pulled Gavin toward him, until the detective lied on top of him. Without breaking the kiss, Connor pushed his boxers down until Gavin wiggled out of it.

“You don’t have to,” he said, his breath warm on Connor’s face.

“But I really want to,” the android answered with a playful pout.

He hooked his legs around Gavin waist and slid a hand between them to wrap his fingers around him. Gavin groaned and his dick twitched. It felt so hot. Connor wanted to see it, but he also wanted to feel Gavin’s weight on him, so he contented himself with exploring and memorising what he felt on the tip of his fingers. He put his other hand on Gavin’s ass, encouraging him to rut against him. The detective complied.

He was better than Connor at staying mostly silent. The android held him close as he pleasured himself, bucking into Connor’s fist and pressed close against his stomach. Connor peppered his face with kisses, punctuating each one with a “come on” whispered in the air between them, urging Gavin on. He enjoyed the human’s muffled groans and the way his face contracted as he grew closer to ecstasy.

“Come on,” Connor whispered again. His fingers clenched into the soft flesh of Gavin’s ass cheek.

Gavin craned his neck to kiss his LED, which made Connor smile as something soft he couldn’t describe bloomed in his chest. He focused on Gavin’s erratic breathing right next to his ear. After several minutes, Gavin’s thrusts turned hurried and desperate, until he tensed and came on Connor’s stomach with a chocked-off groan.

Connor softly let go of him. One of his hand came up to stroke his back in a soothing gesture, while he brought the one covered in sperm to his mouth. Before he had time to think, he tasted it with the tip of his tongue, like a reflex embedded in his programming, and immediately ran some analysis.

“Are you doing what I think you’re doing?” Gavin asked as his last shivers ebbed down, and his full weight relaxed on Connor.

“You need to eat healthier,” the android answered.

Gavin started giggling, then he laughed more frankly and rolled to the side to lie next to Connor. He combed a hand through his hair, still damp from the shower.

“Do you think there is a single chance anyone didn’t hear that?”

“I highly doubt it,” Connor answered.

Gavin shook from a new fit of laughter, and Connor, still high on the happiness released by his orgasm, quickly joined him.

Nines and Hank were playing some insignificant card game in complete silence when the first moans started to filter through the wall. Nines, who had no need to keep his full attention on the game anyway, briefly focused on it. It seemed like the detective was perfectly able to take care of Connor, which brought a sense of relief to the android. As long as Connor was safely enjoying himself…

He and the Lieutenant were sitting on their respective bed and had dragged the bedside table between them to lay the cards on it. Unperturbed, Nines played his turn, then looked up when the Lieutenant did not react. The man had changed into jogging pants and a white, thin shirt that allowed Nines to see the outlines of the patches of hair on his chest. He was not looking at his own cards, but instead staring at an invisible spot on the worn-out carpet. Listening.

“Is it… coming from Reed’s and Connor’s room?”

Nines looked down at his cards.

“Yep.”

“Are they…”

“Yep.”

“Oh.”

The Lieutenant blushed furiously and brought his attention back to the cards in his hand as well. Nines picked up on his elevated heartbeat. Hank was apparently too distracted now because he still didn’t play. Never mind. He was supposedly “teaching” Nines how to play, and the android hadn’t had the heart to tell him he was able to calculate which cards the Lieutenant was most likely to hold and already had planned several ways to win, so the game wasn’t that interesting anyway.

He put his cards aside.

“Does it bother you?” he asked carefully.

Hank did not answer immediately.

“It doesn’t ‘bother’ me,” he said eventually. “It’s just that… I feel like a perv trying to imagine what’s going on in their room, but I can’t stop myself. And you?” he added after a while. “Aren’t you jealous? I mean, he’s your omega, right?”

“Well, he’s not ‘mine’ in the backward sense humans usually assign to it, but yes we are romantically involved.” He couldn’t help but say it with a level of pride in his words, which was ridiculous. Putting a word on their relationship had not technically changed it and at the same time, it had changed everything. “I’ve come to learn that Connor looking for emotional – or physical – bonding with other people does not mean he loves me less.”

“You’ve come to learn contractions as well,” Hank commented. “Congratulations.”

Nines raised one eyebrow but took it as the harmless tease that it was. The man _was_ more relaxed around androids now.

“The more I interact with humans, the more I pick up their mannerism. Unfortunately.”

Hank smiled lightly.

“Still. Isn’t it… different?” he continued. “Usually, romantic relationships are exclusive. I don’t know if what Connor and Reed have is going toward romantic, but isn’t it weird to know that your boyfriend has a relationship with someone else?”

“Just like you said: ‘usually.’ There are no rules here. I think it would be better for us to determine what makes us happy without worrying about what is ‘usually’ more accepted.” Nines answered. “I guess it’s the kind of thing we will have to discuss at length. I wouldn’t mind Connor and Gavin having a relationship and spending time together while Connor and I still have our own relationship. I’m not going to lie, though, I wish I could be with them.”

He turned his head to wistfully stare at the wall between their rooms. Just like Hank, he could not help but try to imagine what was going on on the other side of that wall. Once again, several pre-constructions were building in his mind without his permission. Most of them included himself – but not all of those included him actually participating.

He didn’t know what to make of it: after all it was the first time he heard his partner having sex. There was some part of him that was just plain curious about what exactly they were doing. Another part of him couldn’t help but register it as a moment of vulnerability and wanted to make sure the two omegas were safe. The rest of him simply wanted to spend time with two persons he liked. Even still, he doubted he experienced desire the same way most people did. His pre-constructions weren’t displeasing, but they didn’t make him _yearn_. And he certainly was not uncomfortable in his pants, like Hank seemed to be.

“Connor and I decided against it for tonight, however,” he spoke again. “Even though I have the feeling Gavin doesn’t dislike me as much as he does other alphas, I doubt he would be comfortable enough to take that step yet.”

Hank snorted.

“Yeah, I don’t see Reed warming up to alphas any time soon. He distrusts us more than the suspects he interrogates.”

Nines couldn’t help but take Gavin’s defence.

“Don’t you think it’s justified, most of the time?”

“I never said he doesn’t have good reasons. I’ve known him longer than you, I’ve seen him interact with other cops for years. This job? It’s like it turns alphas into complete assholes. It’s traditionally viewed as a job where you have to be strong and violent because on TV cops spend their time running after bad guys and fighting. So, there’s this sort of peer pressure where you have to prove to everyone else that you’re part of the gang, that you’re the most alpha of all the alphas and that you’re perfectly suited for this. And Reed? Well, he disturbs this natural order of things. If an omega can do the same things they do with no apparent struggle, then simply doing it doesn’t make them feel as manly as before. They feel threatened, so they try to drag him down. I think how Reed acts is necessary sometimes, or he would get eaten alive.”

Nines pondered over that for a few seconds.

“The way you talk makes it sound like you disapprove their behaviour.”

“I’m not gonna lie, I’m not perfect. I was just like that when I was fresh out of the academy. If there had been an omega working at my precinct when I was in my twenties, I would probably have said things I would be ashamed of today. Luckily, I grew out of it. Reed is a good cop, and he would probably be even better if he didn’t have to waste so much time proving himself over and over again to his co-workers.”

Nines relaxed knowing he didn’t have to lump Hank in with the other alphas who exhausted Gavin with their constant snide remarks.

A moan louder than the others sounded through the wall, and Hank’s blush came back full force. He was on his feet in an instant.

“I think it would be better if we went to sleep early.” He cleared his throat. “We have a busy day ahead of us.”

Nines watched absently as Hank busied himself putting all of his stuff back into his go-bag and clearing their abandoned card game. Would he dare to ask? Oh well, they would have to talk about it at one point or another.

“What about you?” When Hank turned to look at him, he continued with a nod toward the wall: “Are you jealous? If you were to start a relationship with Connor, would you be okay with what he has with me and what he has with Gavin?”

Hank made a weird noise, like he was choking on thin air, then shook his head with a smile.

“What are you talking about? Connor and me? As if I would ever be in a position to make this choice.”

“You could be. Sooner than you think. Connor has already made clear that he finds you attractive and that he wants to see if this compatibility CyberLife has given us is accurate or not. If he comes to you next, will the prospect of a polyamorous relationship hold you back?”

Hank turned his back on him, his shoulders suddenly tense. He zipped his bag close and threw it on the ground, harsher than necessary.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. Connor won’t come and ask me.”

“Do not play the idiot. Connor has been nothing but honest with you and don’t try to deny you’re attracted to him.”

“Drop it, Nines.”

“What, you’re not into dating androids yet?” Nines spat, a bit louder than he intended.

Hank spun on his heels to face him again, mouth open and eyes bright with anger, ready to say something. But he didn’t.

He hesitated, then, with a long sigh, he sat down on his bed. He seemed to deflate completely, as if the weight of the world were pressing down on him. He put his face in his hands. Nines waited as the tension ebbed down.

Eventually, Hank looked up to him again with a sad smile.

“Could you imagine it? Connor, the picture of perfection, with an old man like me, worn out by life?”

Nines relaxed, recognised the Lieutenant was making an effort to show vulnerability instead of hiding behind aggressivity and try not to punish him for it.

“Connor can,” he said.

“I really wonder what he sees in me.”

Nines did not answer immediately, because… well, because he could understand Connor now. It had taken him completely by surprise, it had wormed its way inside of him, and now it was just… there.

That night when he had repaired Connor at Hank’s place, Nines had been beside himself. Too worked up, too anxious, with no idea if he wanted to cry, to scream, or to fight. When he hadn’t been strong enough for Connor, Hank had. He had put his hand on Nines’ shoulder, offered words of comfort, and suddenly Nines had seen someone completely different from the man with backward thinking he was becoming wary off.

When Nines had lost it with the three androids, Hank had remained coolheaded and determined. When Nines had been clueless, Hank had known to hug Connor close, he had found the words to say. And Nines had felt respect and admiration. An admiration that wasn’t going away.

Nines had seen a strong man, calm and caring; he had seen who Hank could be, when he didn’t try to push others away, but instead gave love. He had seen a man that maybe, he could trust to take care of things when Nines couldn’t, a man who wouldn’t hurt Connor and who Nines could be vulnerable around.

He wanted more of that man. For Connor, and for himself.

“I think I have an idea of what might draw him to you,” he said honestly.

Hank looked at him with deep surprise. Nines didn’t provide any more information.

“Since you’ve already seen it, there’s no point in hiding it,” Hank said. Nines could see how much he was struggling against himself to force the words out. “Yes, I would want… something with Connor. More than I thought I would ever want anything, which is already… scary. But after my divorce, after those four years of… absolute hell, would I still know how to do this? I would say there is half of me who wants this and half of me who’s terrified, and that just makes me feel completely lost. If Connor were to ask, I don’t know if I would allow myself to let go.”

Nines took his time to search for words as Hank stared at his own hands, nervously clasped on his lap.

“I recognise I can’t understand your feelings, but I can still respect their existence and whatever your choice will be, we will respect it. But Connor and I have no experience, and we are going in this blind as well. We are going to make mistakes too. So, if you need anything, time to think or someone to talk to, you can ask. You don’t have to be alone anymore. Even if you don’t want us in a romantic manner, we can still be friends.”

Hank smiled at him softly. He still looked sad, and Nines regretted he couldn’t do more. He hesitated, then added:

“Have you ever considered going to a psychologist?”

He saw the instinctive defensiveness on Hank’s face, but the Lieutenant pushed it down quickly.

“I did, just after… my son. But I stopped going cause I wasn’t ready to let someone poke at my feelings. Maybe I should consider it again, shouldn’t I?”

“I can’t make the decision for you. I’m just saying it is a possibility.”

Hank nodded slowly. He looked at the floor, seemed like he was about to get on his feet and call it a night, but changed his mind. He looked at Nines, eyes squinted.

“You said ‘we’. As in not just Connor.”

Nines cocked his head, replaying his own words.

“I guess I did.”

Hank frowned.

“Seriously? You and Connor, sure. You and Reed, I could see it. But… you and me?”

Nines hesitated a long time, feeling… yes, it was most likely embarrassment. Then, all he could provide was an unhelpful shrug. Hank blushed.

“Really?”

“I don’t know, I could see it happening. It doesn’t have to be romantic if you don’t want to, but we should probably try to be friends, even just for Connor’s sake. And I…” Was he blushing too? He couldn’t tell. “If you help me make Connor happy, I could see having you as a partner. In life, I mean. Someone I could turn to.”

Nines always considered he had to protect Connor no matter what. He recognised it was irrational: Connor deserved his support, yes, but he wasn’t completely helpless either. He did that in every aspect of their lives – and with other people as well –: when they were working with Markus, when they were at the precinct… Nines felt like he had to take all the responsibilities, do the hardest or most dangerous part of the work, to ensure others did not have to take those risks.

With Hank though, he felt like he could share the mantel. Maybe his alpha side had more of an influence on himself he would care to admit, and as he recognised Hank as an equal, he wanted to keep him close, so they could both be stronger, side by side.

“As I said, it doesn’t have to be romantic. It could turn to that with time, or maybe never.”

“I’ve never dated an alpha,” Hank admitted. “Let alone an android. I don’t think I’ve ever considered an alpha as a potential romantic partner.”

“Things change. People too. You’re not too old to change, Hank, despite what you seem to think.”

Hank chuckled.

“Well, thanks. I wouldn’t know how to do this with an android. I mean, does it even do anything for you?”

Nines raised an eyebrow.

“What? Love or sex? Because by the sound of it, Connor seems to be doing just fine.”

Hank laughed quietly, shaking his head.

“Yeah, it probably was a stupid question. I’m sorry. I’m trying, I promise.”

Nines allowed himself to smile. “I know,” he said, reassuring.

They stayed silent for a while. Connor and Gavin had gone quiet too.

“Seems like I’ll have a lot of things to think about,” Hank said. He got to his feet and walked to the small bathroom. He hesitated. “Hey, Nines,” he said above his shoulder. “Thanks for the talk.”

Nines smiled again.

“And thank you for your honesty.”

Hank smiled back and disappeared into the bathroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god I haven't updated in ages because I'm a mess and I don't know how to deal with life. I'm so sorry! This fic is not abandoned though. We'll reach the end one day, I promise!


	11. Parking the Car

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They finally reach their destination, when Hank decides he needs to have a talk with Gavin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm almost done writing this fic, so I'm going to try and update it more regularly (emphasis on the try). To anyone who's still reading, thank you so much for your patience.

In the morning, Gavin was smoking a cigarette outside when Anderson exited his room. Gavin tensed, waited for a comment… Anderson greeted him with a “Good morning” and a nod, then he walked past him toward the small restaurant that also served breakfast. Gavin relaxed.

After the two humans had eaten, they drove the rest of the way. This time, Nines sat next to Anderson, and Gavin dozed off to the sound of the alphas’ quiet conversation. They reached their destination around noon. Anderson stopped his car at a respectful distance, so they could observe the house without being seen.

Gavin let out a low whistle.

“Nice place.”

The house sat one hour away from the nearest town, isolated in the middle of the wood. It had two upper floors and way too many windows revealing almost every single room, which probably explained why they didn’t want any neighbours. Gavin could imagine an arrogant architect arguing about “unique lighting” and “bringing down the barrier between the inside and the outside” to a couple rich enough to pay for those kinds of whims.

A black SUV was parked in the alley leading to the garage. At least one person was home – they hadn’t called ahead, so they wouldn’t have time to destroy evidence if there were any.

Nines got out first.

“Reed and I need to er… go park the car,” Anderson declared out of the blue.

Gavin froze with his hand on the handle.

“We do?” he asked, frowning.

“Yep.”

Connor seemed surprised when he met Gavin’s eyes, but he exited the vehicle without a word. Nines gave an understanding nod.

“We will wait for you,” he said.

He slammed the passenger door shut. Traitor. He acted like he knew what Anderson was planning.

Anderson made a U turn and drove back toward town for a few minutes until he found a clearing in the trees to the side of the road, wide enough for his car. Gavin looked back while he parked it and killed the engine. He could still see Connor and Nines waiting at the end of the road and the roof of the house jutting among the trees.

“Seriously, Anderson?”

He shifted to sit properly again. Anderson glanced at him through the rear-view mirror.

“I know, it’s ridiculous, but we need to talk.”

“In the middle of a case?”

“Forget the case for five minutes.”

Gavin squirmed in his seat, already embarrassed about the conversation he didn’t want to have. The embarrassment didn’t last in front of his anger, though. The Lieutenant had dragged him away from the others in the middle of a fucking case to get on his back for what he and Connor had done? It was unprofessional, even for Anderson.

“So,” Anderson started calmly, looking straight ahead through the windshield. “I had a talk with Nines. Maybe you already know, but it looks like those two are still interested in the whole CyberLife issued compatibility, polyamorous relationship thingy.”

Gavin blinked.

“What?”

The alpha cleared his throat, apparently more embarrassed than him.

“Well, you know. CyberLife said we were all compatible and shit,” he said, as if Gavin hadn’t been there. “And that according to them, it means that if we were to all enter a relationship, or to have some of us have a relationship while the others… stay friends, those relationships would have a good chance of working.”

Gavin listened as Anderson stumbled over his words and forced a barely coherent sentence out. He blushed, unable to control it. Talking about _that_ with Hank fucking Anderson wasn’t how he thought this conversation would go.

“So, you don’t want to scream at me for having sex with a co-worker in the middle of a case?” he asked, a bit provoking. Maybe if he reminded it to Anderson, he _would_ start screaming at him, and then they would be back to their usual way of communication, which would allow Gavin to relax.

“What? No.” Anderson paused. “When you put it like that, I should probably take it to Fowler,” he mumbled, as if for himself. “Oh well, I’ve never been the best with discipline.”

Gavin unbuckled his seat belt and scooted to the side to be able to see Anderson’s face between the two front seats.

“Then what is this all about?”

Anderson turned his head to meet his eyes.

“Well, obviously Connor wants a relationship with you, and Nines told me he does too – which I don’t think will come as a surprise to you.” It didn’t. Nines had been pretty clear since that very first night. “If by some miracle Connor still wants me even after all the shitty things I said, how are we going to go about this? I take Connor out on Saturday while you go with Nines, then we meet up afterwards, throw each other a few insults, then switch? We’re not going to date them separately, while maintaining this… hatred between us, are we?”

“’Date them?’ What are you talking about? You’re seriously considering it now?”

Anderson remained perfectly serious.

“Yes.”

Gavin scoffed, feeling anger bloom in his chest.

“You felt bad one day and it was enough to make you do a complete 180 on your stance?”

“Reed, please, this is serious. We need to do better. Both of us. For Connor and Nines. They went through enough, with the revolution, with this case, with… well, with me. This thing we have, it needs to be good for them, it needs to be something that brings them joy, not one more worry to add to the pile. I have no fucking idea why, but for some reason, they decided to give me a second chance, and I don’t want to mess it up. They deserve it. So, we need to talk this through. I know you hate me, and you would never date me cause I’m old and fucked up-”

“Damn right.”

“But I’m sure you want Connor to be happy, and maybe Nines too, and for that we both need to-”

“Oh, shut up Anderson,” Gavin interrupted again. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to be a dick for four years, and then change your mind and tell other people what they should or shouldn’t do, as if one day of acting like a decent person suddenly gave you the moral high ground.”

Anderson recoiled at that, visibly hurt, but he remained calm, infuriatingly calm.

“I guess you’re right. But I’m not saying you have to do what I say, I’m just suggesting that you and I could try to smooth things over. For Connor and for Nines.”

“I’m not dating Nines.”

“I know, but he likes you and maybe later…”

“I don’t date alphas,” Gavin said each word firmly.

Anderson frowned.

“Come on, Nines is not like those guys at the precinct.”

“I don’t date alphas!” Gavin snapped. “Not Nines. Not you. Not anyone.”

Some part of him wanted to take back those words. He had started considering it, Nines and him. Vaguely, at the back of his mind, not daring to let those thoughts fully form.

But right now, he felt an irrational anger burning in him. It had been so easy to let go with Connor, to tell himself he would make the decision later. But now Anderson was being all nice, he was making efforts and he wanted to talk about it, and suddenly that thing, with the four of them, was right in front of him, well within reach. He could have it if he wanted to. And it terrified him.

“I worked too hard to get where I am right now, to earn the position that I have. You have no idea how much I sacrificed for it, how hard I fucking struggled. I’m not going to give it up, because suddenly I’ll be smelling like Nines, and I’ll be nice to you, and everyone will talk about how I’m being fucked by not one, but two alphas, how I’m just an omega whore, and nobody will take me seriously ever again! I will _not_ give it up.”

A heavy silence fell on the car after Gavin’s sudden outburst. He wouldn’t have been surprised Connor and Nines had heard it. Gavin breathed hard, flushed with anger, not taking his eyes away from Anderson. Refusing to look down. _‘Come on. Get angry at me. Come on, prove to me things can’t change. You can’t change.’_

“You’re a good cop, Reed,” Anderson said, breaking the silence. “Nothing can take that away from you.”

Gavin’s anger evaporated. He leaned back in his seat, suddenly feeling like he wanted to cry and not knowing why. Who the fuck was that man? That was not Anderson. Was that who he was when he wasn’t drunk out of his ass? Who he used to be before his son passed away?

Even though there was no reason for it, even though he didn’t want it to, he felt warmth bloom in his chest at Anderson’s words. He didn’t need someone’s validation, and certainly not Anderson’s, and yet… it felt nice to hear someone confirm his efforts had paid off.

Gavin took a few minutes to calm down, and Anderson waited in silence.

“You’re really serious with this?” he asked finally, looking down on his hands. “You really think your resolution is gonna hold?”

The lieutenant let out a long sigh.

“I don’t know. I won’t know until I try. I’m always gonna think of Cole, of course, and I’ll still have bad days, but I’m done looking for someone to blame. Did you know a human was supposed to do the intervention?” he said, meeting Gavin’s eyes through the rear-view mirror with a sad smile. “But he was high on Red Ice. It wasn’t even an android’s fault. I don’t want to be alone anymore, and for some reason I can’t fathom, it seems Connor and Nines are ready to give that to me. You better believe I’m going to try my hardest not to fuck it up.”

Jesus… Gavin couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. Couldn’t believe Anderson hadn’t tried to hit him yet. He couldn’t find it in himself to be angry at him when the man was trying so hard to stay calm and to reach out to him. He had promise to Connor he would make an effort with Anderson, after all. So, the question he asked was probably insolent, but at least he said it with an even tone.

“And this… sharing thing, do you think it would be sustainable? Aren’t you afraid jealousy will end up getting in the mix? Granted, you heard Connor and me last night, and you didn’t barge in the room to stop us, but you’re still an alpha, Anderson. Do you think you’d be okay with not having Connor all for yourself? With letting him spend a good amount of time with another alpha? Do you think Nines would be okay with that?”

“I’d like to think we’re defined by more than our secondary gender. Yeah, I’m an alpha, but that doesn’t control me. Nines makes Connor happy, I wouldn’t stand between them. Connor is his own person, he will never be ‘mine’ and that’s okay. And Nines doesn’t seem to have a problem with jealousy.”

“That because Connor and I are both omegas. He won’t perceive me as a threat.”

“Come on, you know Nines doesn’t think like that. Not every alpha thinks like that, me included.”

Gavin bit his lips. Yeah, he was probably being unfair. Nines hadn’t given him a reason to distrust him yet, but he still couldn’t help but anticipate the worst. It was like everything he had experienced so far had rewired his brain and changed his perception of the world.

“Do you even see me as an omega?” he asked, partially skeptical, partially genuinely curious.

Anderson didn’t answer immediately.

“Not really,” he said eventually.

Gavin smiled softly.

“It’s okay. I don’t blame you for that. I spent the entirety of my adult life so far trying to make people forget I’m an omega.”

They stayed silent for a while. Gavin could feel Anderson observing him, but he kept his head down.

“Reed?” He briefly looked up to meet his eyes. “Fuck what other people will say.”

His lips twitched at that and he almost smiled.

“That’s easy to say when it’s not your career that will be impacted.”

He saw compassion in Anderson’s eyes. Usually, he didn’t like people pitying him because it gave him the impression they saw him as weak. He didn’t believe Anderson thought him weak though, so his sympathy made him feel warm again.

“You’re right,” the lieutenant acknowledged. “I’ll probably never understand what you’re going through, but you’ve never let other people’s opinion stop you before.”

Gavin felt himself nodding. His emotions were a whirlwind in his stomach, and he didn’t feel like he could put words on them yet, so he changed the subject.

“So what? We’re friends now?”

“We could try. Nothing has to change at the precinct if you don’t want to, but I guess not insulting each other would be a good start.”

After a while, Gavin forced himself to nod again.

“Alright, but only because Connor asked me. Don’t go around believing I’m doing anything for your pretty eyes.”

He readied himself to exist the car before Anderson could think of any new embarrassing subject he wanted to “have a talk” about, but he wasn’t fast enough.

“Hey, Reed?”

“What?”

“Think about it… please.”

About what? A polyamorous relationship with Connor and Nines, and… Anderson? He sighed.

“Yeah. I will.”

Anderson nodded, and Gavin was finally able to leave the car.

Connor gave him a smile, hesitant and a bit questioning, when they joined the two androids. He probably thought their talk had gone wrong. Gavin smiled back in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. It had gone weird, but he didn’t think it had gone wrong, not entirely. Nobody commented on the time it had taken them to “park the car” and they walked together toward the house.

Anderson, ever the alpha despite what he said, took the lead and firmly knocked on the door. They waited a few seconds, the wind in the trees and birds singing the only sounds around them. Gavin stayed a bit behind, still mulling over the conversation in the car. He completely forgot it however, when the door opened.

It was Vincent. The latest disappearance. The partner of the first two androids they had interrogated.

Gavin recognised him immediately thanks to all that time he had spent reviewing the case files. He had studied his pictures for longer than he would care to admit. The young man with dark skin and short hair stared at them while the four of them gawked wordlessly. He had no LED and apparently no idea of what was happening. Gavin was close enough to Connor that he felt him tense in surprise.

“Vincent?” Anderson finally asked.

“I’m sorry, it seems that you have the wrong house,” the android answered calmly. “There is no Vincent here.”

Gavin and Connor exchanged a look. Gavin saw that while he himself was mostly confused, Connor’s jaw had tightened and there was a flash of anger in his eyes.

“Who is it?” a voice asked, and soon a white, middle-aged beta woman appeared behind Vincent.

“I don’t know,” the android answered. “They didn’t say.”

The woman went to stand beside him, visibly exasperated. Anderson showed her his badge.

“Mrs. Miller, I presume? Detroit Police, we have a few questions to ask you.”

The woman was taken aback. She quickly reigned her emotions in, but Gavin had time to identify clear panic on her face. She wasn’t a good liar. She had done something wrong, and she knew it.

“My husband is at work,” she said gingerly.

“That’s okay, ma’am. We believe you might have information concerning a case we’re working on. Can we come in?” Anderson took only one step forward, careful to stay well behind the threshold. Even though he wasn’t invading her home, he still towered over both the beta woman and the android. She seemed to shrink in front of his hulking frame.

Sometimes, it was useful to have an alpha around. Mrs. Miller yielded more easily than she would have in front of Gavin and unconsciously lowered her head.

“Alright, but just a few minutes.”

She turned on her heels as the android opened the door wider for them.

Anderson gripped Nines before he could step in. He leaned closer to him in order to speak in a whisper – Gavin and Connor, right behind them, were close enough to hear.

“Is it a different model?” he asked.

Nines met the lieutenant’s eyes, face tight.

“No. His serial number matches Vincent’s.”

Gavin’s stomach sank. He was afraid to understand what was going on.

They stepped inside the house. The clean interior matched the exterior. It didn’t look like a place that was lived in, more like a picture in a magazine. Art pieces were the only objects cluttering the hall and the living room. Everything looked pristine, like someone did little else but chores around the house all day.

Once she’d led them to the living room, Mrs. Miller turned toward them.

“Coffee? Tea, perhaps?” she asked in a voice colder than the colour of her walls.

“A glass of water,” Anderson answered.

The android left without a word, presumably in the direction of the kitchen. The four of them stared at his retreating back.

The woman gestured toward a sleek, black couch. Anderson stared her down, doing nothing to hide his hostility and suspicion, and sat down slowly. Gavin had seen him with victims and witnesses, had seen how he softened his voice and his mannerism in an obvious attempt to put them at ease. At this instant, he was making no effort to look less threatening, and some part of Gavin felt morbid satisfaction when the beta woman squirmed and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

Gavin sat too. Uncharacteristically, Connor didn’t wander around the room to satisfy his never-ending curiosity. He didn’t seem as… fidgety as usual either. He sat right next to Gavin, his body language unnervingly stiff, tight fists on his lap. Nines remained standing. His head turned slightly as his eyes scanned the room, no doubt recording everything, looking for any clue. Mrs. Miller stayed on the other side of the room, which left a coffee table between her and them.

“What can I do for you?” she asked nervously.

Anderson let the silence stretch. Gavin kept his mouth shut. He could trust the lieutenant to know what he was doing and if he wanted to play with this woman’s nerves, he was all for it.

“We’re working on a case concerning the disappearance of multiple androids in Detroit and the surrounding areas,” the alpha eventually explained. “During our investigation, we came across your address.”

“It must be a mistake. I have nothing to do with this.”

Even without an alpha’s nose, Gavin could smell her anxiety from across the room.

Anderson chose not to answer her.

“This house is registered to you and your husband’s name, so I hope you won’t mind me asking who this young man is?” Just as he said that Vincent entered the room with two glasses of water on a tray. He placed them in front of the two humans – he didn’t even spare a glance toward Connor and Nines. He was wearing a blindingly white shirt.

Gavin felt nauseous. This was so _wrong_.

“His name is Clark. He’s a family friend,” the woman answered. “He decided he wanted a new life, but he had nowhere to go, so we offered him to stay here for as long as he wanted.”

It sounded rehearsed.

“Clark” stood still next to the couch, his tray tucked under his arm. Connor looked up at him.

“Do you remember Ashley and Adam, Vincent?” he asked softly.

“My name is not Vincent,” he answered calmly.

“But do you remember them? You worked at the same place before the revolution and you decided to move in together. Adam is passionate about music, there are records all over your flat.”

The android seemed perturbed at that. He blinked several times like androids usually did when their processors were working hard.

“I…” For a second, it was like a single emotion slipped into his voice.

“Don’t you miss them?” Connor insisted.

“I live here now,” he said eventually. “The Millers kindly offered me a place to live when I had nowhere to go. They’re dear friends of mine.”

That, too, sounded like something that had been rehearsed. Something he’d been ordered to say.

Connor fist tightened, and Gavin nearly took it between his hands but refrained at the last moment.

“I should fucking arrest you,” Anderson deadpanned with a growl in his throat.

A shiver ran down Gavin’s spine. God, was he glad to not be the target of his anger for once.

“On what charges?” Mrs. Miller asked, indignant.

“This man has been reported missing by his loved ones,” Nines declared. “What is he doing at your house?”

“I just told you. I don’t know what Clark was doing before he came to live with us. Are you insinuating we kidnapped him? He came here on his own accord, and we’re not retaining him against his will. Tell them, Clark.”

“I’m free to go whenever I want. Nobody forced me to come live with the Miller,” the android declared.

Gavin felt like he wanted to scream.

“Oh, and you gave him a new name, like a pet?” he spat instead.

“Maybe Clark simply didn’t like his old name anymore. Maybe he didn’t want to be found by his old friends. It’s not illegal for someone to decide they want to start a new life without telling anyone. Perhaps he had an argument with his flatmates, I didn’t ask him.”

Nines moved suddenly. He turned his back on the woman and strode toward the android to stand right in front of him.

“Come with us, Vincent,” he offered in a soft voice, trying not to scare the other one. “We will protect you. Whatever they threatened you with, they won’t be able to reach you if you place yourself under our care. You will be able to see Adam and Ashley again. They miss you a lot.”

“This is ridiculous,” the woman mumbled, but she waited anxiously for “Clark’s” reaction.

The android didn’t answer immediately.

“I… left on my own,” he eventually repeated. “No one forced me to come live with the Millers, and I want to stay there.”

The beta relaxed.

“If you have no warrant, I will have to ask you to leave. We answered your questions, and you have no reason to harass us like this.”

“Cut the crap,” Anderson snapped. He got to his feet in a menacing posture. “Just tell us who you are working with.”

Gavin got up almost on instinct and placed a hand on the lieutenant’s arm. He was stronger than most people actually expected, and he was actually confident in his chances to hold Hank back if necessary.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” the woman said. To her credit, she held her ground. “I don’t know anything about androids disappearing. Clark obviously isn’t one of them. It isn’t illegal for someone to move out without telling anyone. As you can see, he can move freely around the house, and he could leave if he wanted to. He just told you he doesn’t. So now, I’m asking you to leave my house.”

“Vincent, please,” Nines insisted, still standing in front of the android.

“Clark, see them out,” Mrs. Miller ordered, not realising she’d treated her “friend” like the domestic he so obviously was.

He took a few steps toward the door, then turned around to look at them expectantly. Anderson and Gavin exchanged a long look, debating on what to do. Eventually, Connor took the decision for them. He got to his feet and walked out of the living room without a glance toward Mrs. Miller. Gavin met Nines’ eyes and he nodded. Reluctantly, they all retreated to the entry way. Vincent opened the door for them.

Gavin hesitated on the threshold, his eyes on the android’s blank face. He didn’t find anything to say, so he followed Connor who exited first. The door closed behind them. Gavin could see, thanks to a small shift in the curtains of a window overlooking the road, that Mrs. Miller was making sure they were leaving. His heart heavy, he walked away from the house.

Ahead, Connor was marching back toward the car.

“Connor,” Nines called, then he quickened his pace to catch up with him when the omega didn’t turn around.

He gripped his arm. Connor spun on his heels, obvious distress on his face. His LED was blinking between gold and red.

“That’s what they’re doing, whoever they are,” he said, pointing a finger toward the house. “They capture androids, they reboot them, and they sell them to rich people who still want to own slaves.”

Gavin and Anderson stayed silent as they joined them in the middle of the empty road. They had all reached the same conclusion. Vincent didn’t seem to have any memory left of his life. The Millers probably used him to clean around the house and cook for them. The android had been instructed to say he stayed with them on his own volition if someone ever asked him, and the poor man, his personality destroyed and his past robbed from him, had no choice but to obey.

Gavin doubted the Millers were responsible for the abductions, however. They most likely had bought the android for a price way above the value he cost before the revolution. Gavin wouldn’t be surprised to learn more people than he would think were ready to take the risk of being discovered to keep a soulless slave unable to say no to them.

The motive wasn’t anti-android hatred in the end, not entirely. It was money. The abductors had sold all of their victims.

“Is there anything we can do?” Connor asked, his rage melting to be replaced by pain and fear.

Anderson sighed, looking as exhausted and disgusted as Gavin felt, and rubbed his face with his hand.

“We can’t force Vincent to come with us if he doesn’t want to. We can’t arrest anyone without evidence to back us up, and I doubt the Millers would know anything of value about the organisation they bought Vincent from anyway.”

Gavin looked over his shoulder. They’d walked far enough from the house that they were hidden from view by the trees.

“We need to get a warrant,” he said. “If we explain to the judge that we can’t approach this case like we would one concerning humans, that without his memories Vincent is as good a prisoner as if he were in chains, they might understand.”

“It will take us days,” Connor protested.

“We’ll do it anyway,” Nines said. “In the meantime, our best chance is to focus on the case and find the persons responsible for this and dismantle their organisation, so they cannot hurt anyone else. It will take time, but we will get them.”

Connor nervously pulled at his hair, his face distorted by anxiety like he was about to cry. Gavin’s heart clenched. Anderson got closer. Nines was still holding one of the omega’s arm, so the lieutenant rubbed the other one in a reassuring gesture. Connor looked up at him, looking so lost, then he buried his face in the lieutenant’s chest.

The alpha appeared briefly surprised, but soon closed his arms around Connor, while Nines kept stroking his partner’s shoulders. Gavin saw pain on the alpha android’s face as well, the feeling of someone not knowing what to do to help someone they loved.

“It’s my worst nightmare,” Connor whimpered against Anderson’s shirt. “If my memories were taken away from me, I would become _him_ again. The deviant hunter. I’d be a monster again.”

“That’s not gonna happen,” the lieutenant answered firmly. “We’re the one hunting them. Not the other way around.”

Gavin got closer to lay a hand on Connor’s back, too. He didn’t know if it was helping, but he needed to feel the man.

“We need to drive back to Detroit,” Nines eventually said. “We can’t waste time.”

They all nodded.


End file.
